backdated prior to the move to draco!

Garnet-Delta didn't know... Well, anyone outside of its immediately family. It could count the survivors of the trials, but it probably couldn't guess at their names outside of the ones named after their stones. (That, and a singular puffin. It had not forgotten, try as it may.) Still, the point stood that it was woefully under equipped to be finding itself a teacher.

The best guess it had was to find someone like Master Astraea, which it knew as... a deer covered in fungi. From there, Master Vargas had given it some clues; and as much as it didn't want to go with something as... unsavory as eukaryotic magic, it at least knew where to find a massive farm of shrooms nearby. And, hedging its bets, it figured that someone had to be growing them.

A magic user? Perhaps someone powerful. Perhaps, someone who could teach it something.

The benefit of being relatively unfamiliar with the rest of the caves' denizens was that it could presume that not many knew of it, either. Even if they did, it would be through association with its Master (or its Overseer, hhhhhh.) and as far as it knew, the "gembounds" were a clueless bunch as a whole.

As Garnet-Delta swept over the growth of fungi surrounding pools of water, it found the smell-- something it was surprisingly sensitive too-- overwhelming its senses even as it tried to pick up a heartbeat. "Hello?" The feline-alien called, circling at a safe distance. "Does anyone live here?" It was certain it had picked up traces in the past, fairly sure that someone lived here, but... maybe it was natural?

Had it been wrong? Maybe some lessers had confused it. It landed on a patch of ground that wasn't coated in mushrooms nearby, crimson eyes sweeping the area and looking rather lost. Surely there would at least be... (ugh) Bonebound, around that it could ask.

@Giggle

A little fungi was spread, here and there, carpeted around the pools--more a defense than a garden; the garden itself, Garnet-Delta might now see, was rather more impressive. At the stone wall that made up one side of the den, there was a divot--a large area almost like a wardrobe or a cupboard, a hole in the rock. Here, Giggle had spent cycles slotting in substrate like shelves. First, slabs of rotten wood--and on some of these, fungus grew directly. On others there was soil, and others still had required bones or meat, or rotting plants. The shelves supported myriad types: large mushrooms with white-spotted red caps; bioluminescent, soft blue fungus giving off a blue-white glow; a large orange-red, misshapen fungus that gave off a tempting carrion scent, a brown fungus with plain, pale stems, and more. They seemed carefully-tended, and they were; Giggle used these shelves to keep her stock of spores available. The carrion ones, in particular, were prized, as she had not seen them anywhere in the caves for more than forty cycles. ...Fifty? No--sixty, even?

Delta's call woke a groggy Giggle, a Giggle sleeping curled fetal in the thick brush close by. And it woke Omen, the one-red-eyed black bird that burst from the dry grass in an explosion of feathers, emitting a single trailing, haunting call as it launched into a circle overhead--assuming it wasn't attacked, of course. Giggle's head shot up a moment later, blinking tiredly, certainly not a picture of professional aptitude. A black feather drifted from her fur and she squinted, yawned and stood.

"What-?" she began, stretching out her legs, as she registered what exactly it was that the stranger had said. "Hrmph. I live here. My name is Giggle; are you looking for someone?" she asked, pushing out into the open to regard Garnet-Delta with half-asleep curiosity.

One of Tunnel P's, if she were any judge, though she couldn't be altogether certain. But Vargas seemed to collect two types: big monsters, and little oddly-colored flying things that vaguely looked like brown cats, or turtles.

This appeared to belong to the latter category--so maybe one of his?

Past this guess, she knew and could tell nothing, though the haunted mockery of 'cat' briefly chanted through her head.

rain stock: D Sharon Pruitt wiki commons; hyena Benjamin Hollis on flickr

@Garnet-Delta

Garnet-Delta's crimson eyes shot up as a caller took flight, circling over head. Do those normally live here? It wondered, tail twitching and resisting the natural urge to chitter at the prey. As easy as it would be to catch it, Delta had more pressing matters.

Nearby brush rustled further, as a strange carnivore (presumably) poked her head up from the sleeping spot. Had the bird been sleeping with the hyena? Curiosity twitched through the tip of its tail, parting its jaws to breathe in the thick, fungal smell that lingered in the air.

The recently awoken gembound introduced herself, Giggle. All names were strange, but this one made Delta's nose crinkle. It was reminded of a Sir Wabblesmack, and a long, white tip ear flicked dismissively. "Apologizes for the intrusion, Giggle," it began, eyeing up the potential Bonebound member uncertainly. Not everyone who lived in Canis was a Bonebound, but if it was dealing with one of them, well. Better to err on the side of respect.

"I'm Garnet-Delta," it could have come up with a fake name, but it found no reason to pretend. As far as it knew, the two groups were on relatively mutual terms. "I'm looking for someone who can help me," it answered, and in turn, offered its own questions, "Are you part of the Bonebound? Is this your work?" It turned a nose toward the shelves of fungi, the carpets of mycelium.

Ah, but it was putting the proverbial cart before the horse. "I should explain." It lowered its haunches down to sitting, curling a tail neatly about its paws. "Its my job to keep a watchful eye on Master Vargas's nest," it went on to explain, "to do so, I'm looking to learn a certain kind of magic..." Did it wound its pride, to some degree, to come scrounging up to a stranger in hopes of learning something from the wild, strange outsiders? Perhaps. But, it had plenty of ego to spare, and a fierce determination that kept it from faltering for a second. It had been told Master Astraea was capable, but that he would be unlikely to pay it notice. A different fungi expert would have to suffice. "I've been told it is possible through fungal magic, among other kinds. Are you skilled in magic?" Better to be direct.

@Giggle

It was an expressive little thing, and Giggle found both interest and suspicion spiking a little higher. One guess was confirmed, and she allowed herself to feel a little smug at that--despite the fact that it had been a pretty obvious assumption. It wasn't any long shot that'd have earned her a lot of points, but hell, she didn't get a lot of wins, these days. Take 'em as they come, and all that.

'Its my job to keep a watchful eye on Master Vargas's nest' sent a little warning thrilling through her, and her head tilted a little to one side. She immediately felt like she should probably be theatrical, with magic-infused cackling and flowery speech like in the old days, and all that--but instead she was yawning again, and stretching.

It hadn't turned up at a great time for 'theatrical'; the hyena never woke up all that quickly. She grunted, instead. "'Garnet-Delta,' huh? I'm not trying to make fun, but what's up with the name? It sounds strange," she told it. It was like that, uhh... what was it. Orthoclase-something. Gemstone-other-word. "You all name yourselves like that, don't you-? Why?"

Another yawn, and she was pulling herself idly from the thick, dry grasses, shaking out her coat. "Yes, I'm Bonebound. Yes, this garden's mine," she added, glancing indifferently back over her shoulder to her fungus. There was possessiveness in the words, the minor (and at least not particularly pointed) concept laid straight out: this garden was not just her work, but it was hers, and under her protection. Her territory, or whatever, and all that. "To answer your question, yeah, you can track things with fungus. But I have to ask the bones something. Come with me, if you want; and tell me, what's Vargas' 'nest'? I didn't know he had a nest," though distant memory was ringing some unpleasant bells.

Hadn't Astraea called this entire cave a nest? Did that mean that this thing assumed Vargas to own the whole caves? What about everyone in it? Oh, she wouldn't like that. "Are you some kind of cat?" she added, picking her way past Garnet-Delta and starting up the winding path toward the bone pit.

Giggle glanced back, once, to see if it would follow; then she yawned again, and hesitated. "Did I miss any questions? I just woke up," she added, sleepily.

rain stock: D Sharon Pruitt wiki commons; hyena Benjamin Hollis on flickr

@Garnet-Delta

"Your name sounds strange to me," Garnet-Delta replied in a matter-of-fact fashion. "Technically, Garnet-Delta is a designation. We don't pick them ourselves," unless a name was earned, but that concept seemed incredibly lost on every savage gembound it had ever met. It didn't want to get into the nitty gritty.

On the bright side, the conversation was flowing relatively well. Questions to answers, answers to question. No running around with nonsensical theatrics and bad "jokes"... Just relatively normal, straight forward exchanges of information. The alien hybrid nodded at the answers, not missing the particular unspoken threads of emotion in the undercurrent of the conversation.

This hyena was a smug, and prideful, and-- well, Garnet-Delta had made her a little wary. That was understandable, all things considered. It would have to be careful; unfortunately, it didn't know exactly what was considered taboo or wrong to those outside of its little world. "My family," they liked that word, 'family', didn't they? "Live in the tunnel before Hydra. We have a nest, a warren there, where I was born and raised. There's going to be more of us soon, and I want to make sure they're safe when I'm away." Like right now.

It was, naturally, the exact opposite of what it was going to be doing, but... It would be beneficial to keep an eye on things at home, too. So only a white lie, in its eyes. "Master Vargas has been working along side the Sentinels, the group I was born into," it went on. It considered itself Master Vargas's first, a Sentinel second, but... The hyena seemed to prickle at the mention of Vargas, so it weaved a nice little narrative that worked better for what it perceived as Giggle's sensibilities.

Then, she asked if it was a cat. Whiskers twitched with humor, as it glanced away to sweep their surrounding, padding after the hyena to-- "ask the bones", whatever that could mean. It didn't answer immediately, instead picking through its thoughts to decide how it wanted to answer. Eventually it reached a conclusion, and answered succinctly, "My life-giver was a cat named Palefur." Whatever other thoughts it had on the subject it rolled around in the privacy of its own thoughts, enjoying the humor it found it them.

Did she miss any questions? Nothing particularly important, as far as it remembered. Had it gotten distracted...? Well, it had gotten the answers it needed, for now. It would wait and see what was going on with the bones, first, since that seemed to be top of the hyena's priorities, and then it could ask further questions.

@Giggle

Ahh, a family. That made more sense, though why call it a nest-? Giggle didn't know, and filed it away under "mildly interesting things to wonder about later." Giggle immediately noted Delta's reasoning for wanting to learn to track others as a fairly noble thing; wanting to keep an eye on family was a good reason, a real concern. Then, designations--huh. Now that was an interesting thought. Giggle didn't immediately assume it a dystopian thing; more a weird one, another culture's habits and traditions, perhaps.

"Most of the Bonebound's children are hatched knowing a name," she told Delta, and wondered if that were the same elsewhere. Where some Gembound wandered the caves, Giggle had spent almost her entire life in Canis, bar two or three brief journeys elsewhere.

A cat. A faint grimace crossed black lips, a grunt escaping her. "All the cats I've known have been treacherous things," she told it, dourly, and though there was no real judgment or accusation in her tone there was certainly the dislike. Not at Garnet-Delta, but at the very idea of cats.

She led the way to her bone pit, where she paused--the edges wreathed in multicolored fungus, her paws resting at the pit's very edge. Eventually she picked a bone up in her teeth, trotted to the ledge overlooking the pile, and dropped this bone in.

Eyes watched it fall. Watched the other bones clatter. Then they cut to Garnet-Delta. Her interpretation spoke of gifts, of alliances; of something cold, immutable and unchanging. And lastly of strength, of bravery. There was no real warning in it, no alarm cry of impending doom, only faintly-whispered promises of aid and strength and, there in the middle, something rigid as ice. She didn't know what this referred to, but she supposed it would come up, eventually.

I wonder what this one'll have to do, to show strength? Bravery? To break free from this... whatever this cold order is? It didn't matter, much, and Giggle offered a shrug as she loped back down.

"The bones say I can teach you," she told it simply, and without explanation. "Right, so you want to keep an eye on home with fungus. What magic do you know already?" the scarred hyena asked, flopping gracelessly to her haunches with dark eyes fixed on Delta.

rain stock: D Sharon Pruitt wiki commons; hyena Benjamin Hollis on flickr

@Garnet-Delta