Howl's ribs had recovered nicely after a hearty dose of being in his chrysalis for another bunch of cycles and waking up with his fingers so itchy and stiff that he had to scratch his inner thigh for about a full hour. Once he'd gotten that out and gently slid into another sort of state, the howler monkgoose pant-hooted his way to Cetus, woes already forgotten.

As to why he was heading for the misty room, not even he knew. Howl'd already forgotten about the debacle with the supercharged golem and all of the hot dragon notoriety that'd come with it. It was a wonder he could function at all, operating on pure muscle memory and whatever information he'd subconsciously stored away that day.

Mismatched eyes flicked to and fro as he swung from a slippery branch to another, dropping heavily onto his stomach. He closed one eye and held a hand up to the other, fingers curled into an impromptu spyglass that didn't actually work. Falling upon a gathering of Gembound and whatever it was they were clustering around, Howl gave a quiet pant-hoot. His fur stood on end, so he shook out his mane and preened for only a moment.

He fell effortlessly from the branch, barely making a sound as he simpered through the muck and rounded the back of the massive stump. Howl's tail flagged eagerly as he made to pull himself up and look inside - "aw, Caves! Whatin' da bloodeh days is tat smeel!" His eyes watered, seemingly unaware of his own yelling, peering down into the rotten-smelling stump. Howl backed up, tail whipping as he howled at the nearest Gembound like an absolute buffoon, a real fool, "wat's ahl dis shee-it?! Nast-tee!"

hive members please interact

Mother was silent, for a beat.

Curiosity flickered through her, and Mother's will briefly took over. Any Hive members nearby would turn, wholly controlled by Mother's gentle will for the briefest of moments, to stare up toward the newcomer, at precisely the same time. She wanted to see their new guest, after all, and Mother, for all her gifts, had no eyes of her own.

Then came her thought, razor-sharp and driving: "Reward this one for his inquisitive nature." It would be understood by all, of course, that "reward" meant "initiate into the family."

It was strange, really; there was something more powerful about Mother's voice now, a subcurrent of predatory purr, but it was devastatingly reassuring to hear. After all, she would protect them. She knew what to do. She would always know what to do.

Mother knew best.

@Pallas ? @Azrael ? any hive mind in the area may join!

With Sergei currently guarding Orlaith's gemstone, that left others on guard. Legion was there, its composite mites in a disheveled swarm only vaguely resembling its normally-chosen shape. Rather than a pretty, winged, bioluminescent and bright-eyed creature, the swarm appeared to be a motionless brown cloud vaguely resembling half a living thing, and some mud. Every now and then, a few of the mites would stir, but for the most part communication in their own, personal hive was limited. In the past, they had been a constant buzzing of curiosity, of exchanged ideas and excited chatter.

Now, stilled by Mother's influence, they were a blank mess of nothing. Tufts of white fungus, microscopic, had begun to grow on many of the mites and a strange, rank odor was noticable on Legion as a whole.

But at her command, Legion formed: its body, perched vertically on a nearby tree trunk, suddenly coalesced. And then its head swung to stare down and sidelong at the distant creature atop the den.

The swarm... swarmed. Myriad mites took flight, Legion's shape dispersing into a haze which swept for Howl, bringing with it all the tiny sample of Mother's might. The mites attempted to surround Howl, to engulf him in their insubstantial mass, and then to pour for his jaws and nostrils to feed him dozens sacrificial mites with their burden of fungal spores.

The sneak-thief grew leery-eyed as — all at once, even! — every single creature in the vicinity turned to look at him, unflinching and hollow. Goosebumps crept up Howl's fingers and spine, and he knew: this wasn't the best place to hit up for thievery. There was no prize but the omnipresent stink and — "ha-hey! Tere's na'need for any funneh biz-ee-niss… !"

A buzzing sound rang from nearby, and it was just as sudden as the swarm of (what he presumed) to be flies. The mites clung to his fur even as he toppled into the mud, shrieking and scratching until he bled — scrambling fruitlessly through the slop and failing to make his escape. Howl's breath came fast and hot up until the point his assailants started to go inside of his mouth. He couldn't hold his breath for too long.

He spat and cried out, eyes watering at the disgusting rot-scent in his mouth, mixing with his saliva and getting stuck in his teeth as he tried to crunch down on the mites.

Legion lost dozens, if not more, of its constituent mites--possibly numbering even into the hundreds--

Seventy-two, one of them offered sadly, after a brief tally--

--and the swarm, at last, broke away. Granted, it was made up of thousands--but the gradual creation of replacement parts, akin to the slow healing of wounds in larger Gembound, would take time. With a sort of metaphorically slinking away to lick their wounds, the swarm sprang, leapt and flew from Howl and back a few yards into the mud.

They all then waited, uncertainly, thousands of microscopic eyes staring through flashing refraction at the hybrid, hoping that they'd succeeded.

They would know soon enough.

Once the fungus was ingested, a strange transition would begin taking over Howl's mind.

At first, it was like whispers--strange murmurs behind him, around him, eerie perhaps, and the sense that the stink was taking a powerful hold. It might have been unsettling, horrifying even, but for the lowering curtain across his consciousness: a strange sense of falling asleep, in a way, even as the voices at last resolved.

Many voices. A child, and guardian-beasts. A beloved son, and fellow-swarm. And others--so many others--and Howl's now among them.

@Howl

The mites dispersed, but whatever feeling they gave him moved steadily - crawling like a poison.

Howl was intimately familiar with having a fog over his mind, leaving himself (in an emotional sort of way) in long spans of blackness and resurfacing with an extra few trinkets or broken ribs and tailbones. This didn't mean he acknowledged them; no, the sneak-thief just ignored them until he forgot about them. That was his coping mechanism, his loophole for the poor cognition that gripped him.

So, with the impending infection (which he was yet unaware of) he ran, thoughts a frantic, if-slurred undercurrent. His tail flagging high in the air, panting heavily and still spitting, Howl ran harder than he ever had, as if he could escape what was coming.

He ran, and he ran. And he ran. -What was he running from?

Falter... stop. Wait. -Was that his own thought?

"I am here for you." Booming, overwhelming, even in his mind. But it was not a threat: it was reassuring. And it was reassuring. Soothing.

Why had he been running..? There was nothing to run away from. Back there--behind him--there was only mother.

And a strange change would flow through the hybrid. A quiet... stabilization. There was no slow, black depression now, no hyper, hard-to-focus mania flowing through him like grinning rainbows and flashing lights. No longer would he struggle to pull himself awake, or fight to contain electric madness. Instead, he was... calm.

Stable.

For the first time in perhaps forever? Howl could think. Focus. There was only peace; only a pleasant, easygoing joy. His memory would never fail him, for his family could remember for him. It would always be there--every moment, every past flicker of remembrance.

And--hmm. Was he a thief..?

"Come back, my son. You are family now." and then, in quieter, dimmer thoughts, Let us see what we can make of you.

@Howl

What was he running from?

Howl didn't know. The tumultuous, frantic thoughts racing through his head, dancing frantically and endlessly... they weren't even a memory. Mere concepts reduced to atoms and reformed into stability.

And it was bliss.

Mother's assurances were like honey, and the sneak-thief was but a little fly.

The sneak thief called through the new link - as if he'd always known to keep his thoughts to himself, keep himself calm and quiet - Mother... His tail stayed at half-mast as he returned obediently, mismatched eyes in quiet bliss.

Howl moved, at ease, revelling in the perfection of the singular mind, in the aimless fog of her love. He melded into the group, moving as one with the others, and plopped down with no preamble, no dramatics. The vivid life in him was gone, but that was okay. Everything was ok.

As Howl opened to the rest, a flower in bloom, Mother reached into him and picked through his memories.

They were... interesting. A chaotic, violent life, brilliant with life and fraught with self-inflicted danger. ...Yes, interesting.

"You are a good thief," came the murmur, for all to hear. "You can find things others can't. You could bring us things that we so desperately need. That all of us need. You will go into the world with my blessing, and you will steal away the children that you find, and bring them to us. Bring your good Mother the stones that you find. We must make the family larger. So many loving siblings...!" There was a sense like hands caressing Howl's fur--fake, of course, but strangely hypnotic. He was a good creature. He was worthwhile. Useful. He was valued...

@Howl