Bones briefly paced around the West wall. It was the same wall where his mother lived, the Lorekeeper resided, and where he painted - which meant he lived there, too. He slept in a little alcove in the wall, just big enough for him to lay comfortably with gangly limbs sprawled freely. Within his makeshift den were an array of paintings, mostly done on sleepless nights. Unlike the drawings of Giggle, Kerberos, Azazel and Bevy displayed on the wall outside, Bones felt as though the paintings within his den were much more personal to him.

He had tried to draw Booker many times, but he felt as though he could never quite capture the numbat's likeness. He tried many things - drawing Booker without his scars, but somehow that felt wrong, like he were trying to pretend the things that happened to him didn't happen at all, and he would get sad and quickly erase it. He tried painting him with his scars, but somehow that didn't feel right either. He tried painting him small and painting him big but it never quite satisfied Bones completely.

There was a drawing of his mother without her hallowed caller, a mural to remember when he was younger. There was Kerberos, a puppy. Scarborough hadn't quite made it onto his wall yet, but he would get around to it eventually. He wasn't feeling like drawing right now.

There was a new addition to Bones' den, however - a skull of a bull elephant. From his small alcove he could see the curved tusk of the beast. The lights were dimmed down - a sign that it was either turning into the later hours or it was the very early hours. Bones did not care much.

He squirmed forwards, back legs limp behind him. His chin found it's way to rest on the curve of the tusk, with one paw next to his face to wipe his muzzle of his last half-meal (half of it had been used for painting, the other half for eating.) Bleary-eyed, he looked up into the eye socket of the skull.

"Booker," he murmured sleepily, more to the skull than the actual gembound inside. "Are you awake?"

He had tried to help the numbat settle in by painting the skull, but he was unsure if he really wanted the scent of blood in his new den. Only the very edge of the tusks had been painted carefully, thin lines swirling in small, intricate patterns. It was pretty, but he didn't want to continue out of fear of hurting Booker in some way.

Bones crinkles his snout. "I can't sleep," he grumbled, more to himself. One eye closed lazily, the other only half-open. He licked his snout briefly, one over-sized ear lifted to listen out for the numbat.

The massive skeleton of the bull elephant cradled him, protected and guarded with its sharp tusks and ribs curving towards the earth. Booker had fallen asleep, half on his back, in the shadow of the long-dead beast's jaw, its teeth forming the mirage of a room around him. It was solid, real - somehow so much more comforting in death than the constant life of Eridanus had ever been. The chaotic green had followed him into sleep, leaves and trees tumbling over one another, a macabre painting of peacefulness. The Mother hovered in the distance, still and solemn among the constant movement, and under her, hundreds of chrysali, stacked high on top of each other. He moved towards them in the dazed trance of dreams, suddenly inches away, paw raised to trace along the surface of a brilliant blue stone. Something inside twitched and stretched, face bumping up against his palm. Bones, just a pup, even younger than the Gembound he'd first met, painting on the walls with rat blood, blinked at him through the thin quartz, tongue lolling out as his jaws opened into a grin, eyes sparkling with pure relief. Booker. Are you awake? He blinked awake, vision swimming before it righted, green grass fading into the cold, damp floor of Canis. Jaw cracking in a yawn, he sat up on his haunches, rubbing at his eyes with thin paws. "Bones?" The murmur was whisper-soft, and Booker huffed, leaning back on the inward curve of his home's cranium and waiting until his legs decided to cooperate. Tilting his head to the side, he blinked at the sight of his friend, just outside the built-in "window" at the front of the skull, chin resting on a painted tusk. I can't sleep. A soft hum of something dangerously close to contentment trickled down his spine, and the numbat righted himself, leaving his cane behind to slowly climb the honeycomb of bone that led up to the home's entrance, hoisting himself up and onto the slab of dusty flooring that connected the two delicately detailed tusks. It was nice, to be woken up for this. Not because someone was in danger, or needed his help, but because they just... wanted to be around him. A tiny smile twitching at his lips, Booker flopped down onto his stomach, stretching out until he more resembled a misshapen loaf of bread than a living creature, and reaching out just a bit more to pat at Bones' dry nose. "Par for tha course, I reckon," he sighed, chin thumping down onto the skull as he relaxed, eyelid drooping. "...cain't help ya much, beyond keepin' ya company," the medic lied, thinking of the sleep-aids stashed among the growing herbs in the skeleton's lower half for a moment. One of them being too fond of the stuff was enough for both of them, really.

@Bones

It took a few moments for Bones to hear the reply, the little numbat mumble his name. The dog's tail began to gently thump off the ground, dust lifting into the air under the weight. Another few moments of silence caused Bones to begin lifting his head lazily to peer up at the eye sockets of the skull; assuming either Booker was asleep and sleep-talking, or he was balatantly ignoring him - presumably for waking him up.

His head dropped once more at the sight of Booker, tail swishing lazily against the ground. "Hi," he said quietly. "I'm sorry I woke you." A tired, lopsided smile stretched the dogs lips as he felt the tiny paw on his nose, half-closing his eyes.

"I wouldn't have expected much more than that," Bones admitted, gently shifting his nose closer towards Booker. He very briefly licked the side of his own muzzle, watching the numbat with coin-slot eyes. "I'm glad you're here."

Bones was quiet for a few moments longer, breathing in the (disgusting) scent of Booker and exhaling warm air onto the remains of the numbat's fur, ears flickering gently. He liked this - he liked being with someone he was comfortable with, but he wasn't sure if comfort itself was all he really felt around Booker.

Maybe now was a bad time to think about it - he was supposed to be asleep and he had already woken the numbat up. Bones wasn't particularly bothered by the thoughts swirling in his mind, but it was definitely stopping him from actually falling asleep.

"Do you like it here?" he murmured quietly.

@Booker