“Woahhh-“ he leaned in close for a better look, “That’s amazing! I look kinda spooky though, heheh-“

Chuckling, he brings a hand over to the drawing for comparison, curious to see how they differed.
…As he studied both side by side however, the chuckles ceased. He couldn’t find the differences, only uncanny similarities.
And that was only a hand. If Loci got that part right, then the rest of the drawing also had to be accurate.

Was this… really what he looked like?

He’d come across only a few metallic surfaces smooth enough to create a rough reflection, and none were large enough to fit his whole image. Seeing this drawing, despite genuinely admiring the young one’s craft, left a bitter taste in his mouth.
He knew others found him odd. He knew something about him was off. He couldn’t even remember his previous appearance, and yet this stunned him…

Something told him that Loci didn’t need to know all of that though; he seemed so proud of work, as he should be! He could’ve drawn anyone, but chose to do Staccato; that was a good sign, yes!
Grasping tightly to that bit of positivity, he forms it into a bright smile.

”That really is super cool though; I don’t know how to do that-“

He gave the same smile to the three adults who also checked out the drawing.
With each hug to Loci however, that smile waned. It became smaller and lopsided. Such warm affection must feel cozy…

Alas, the whole family seemed preoccupied, so Staccato stuck with Loci. He shifted a bit closer to him, arms wrapped around himself.

“So do you draw stuff a lot? Seems like you do-“ he glances again about the household while he talks, calling out whoever he saw,
“Do you show the others too? Like your brothers, or sisters, or Beak?”

Beak, meanwhile, has found a place to settle in and read a book she has with her, since she doesn't need to participate in the meal. Read, or perhaps study--she does seem to be going over certain passages more than once, flipping pages back and forth to compare them with others, and taking notes on a separate piece of paper.

Not that that stops her from participating in the discussion, though. "I've seen quite a bit of Loci's work, yes. He is good. A prodigy, that one... could be making the kinds of paintings they commission and hang in castles someday, at this rate." She giggles, giving Loci an approving nod.

She senses something amiss, and while she can't tell for sure, she most certainly has a guess. If Staccato likes the drawing--which he clearly does--yet seems... alarmed? saddened? somehow regardless... that can only mean one thing. Beak... knows that feeling, regrettably. She recalls the day she first met this family. Loci looked at her, eyes focusing and unfocusing as if switching between looking at her and looking through her somehow, then cryptically commented something about how Beak wouldn't be ready yet. She never did know for sure what that was about, but she could guess: this was in the middle of her lamenting the fate of her and her people, and Loci perhaps judged that showing Beak a picture of herself would only remind her of what she'd lost.

... Wind still made her a little woodcarving, though, which she still has. It's adorable.

Loci tilts his head slightly, those emerald eyes lights brightening a good deal at the idea of showing his siblings, and the little skeleton rushes off to do exactly that, stopping only to hug all four of his parents before resuming his excited, rattling charge…

…the inside of the burrow is much more cozily furnished than the exterior; there’s a lacquered wood floor with rugs and nests of cushions and blankets scattered all about, a sizable dining table at the center of the main chamber, a cozy little kitchen and a hallway that seems to be lined with bedrooms…though only two of those rooms seems to have gotten any recent use…

Rena chirps happily, the lich settling in next to her wife, trilling contentedly and nestling close as she lets out a soft purr, her shining eyes slowly drifting shut as she relaxes…

Bell and Nev chuckle softly, the ghosts stepping into the kitchen and setting about preparing a meal for the family and their new friend, little Hum quick to join her Dad and Bab’sk they prepare meat, vegetables, spices and seasonings…and then Bell pulls out a pan and turns on the heating stones, tossing the prepared foodstuffs in to begin frying them up…

Staccato didn’t mind Beak’s contribution at all, having looked over at her direction and nodding in agreement just before speaking to Loci again. As the little one ran off, he reached for him.



“No wait-“



He watched Loci embrace his parents and go to his siblings, soon putting his hand down. With a sharp huff, he brought his first pair of legs close to put his chin on them. 


“Okay...”



He sat there, staring off towards the kitchen. The boredom and simmering frustration refused let him stay still though. It started as one hand tapping those soon claws against the wooden floor with the other limbs soon doing the same. With eight sets of claws, the sound could be considered annoying.
 It continued for maybe ten seconds before he stopped and abruptly stood.
He took a quick glance around the area before marching over to the kitchen, peeking his head in.



“Hello?”



The smell wafting from the kitchen instantly brightened his demeanor. Taking a few deep sniffs, he stuck his head in further to address Nev and Bell.



“Need me to do anything?”



And having noticed Beak and Rena with their book, he squints at her, or rather at the book as he tries to make out the title from where he stood.



“…What is that?”

(CW: Cooking as an analogy for the point Beak is making, and thus very in-depth food mentions and discussion)

SPOILER: Click to show

"Oh, this?" Beak almost-closes the book--her bony finger is still serving as a sort of bookmark so she can get right back to it--and lifts it up to show the cover. "We found it on a recent expedition we went on... it's a book containing the rites and rituals of my people. I never knew this stuff before and I'm trying to learn it now."

She giggles and returns that nestling, nuzzling her cheek against her wife's upper head.

"This book does a really good job explaining the steps, but what's missing--and perhaps it's better this way, perhaps it should be missing because it's important for me to discover this on my own--is the why behind it all. It's like... how to explain it...." She looks around and sees the others are working on dinner... aha! Yes, that will do.

"... It's like cooking. Someone who doesn't know anything at all about cooking would ruin a dish by reaching for the nearest small white crystal-looking structures without knowing the difference and end up adding salt instead of sugar. A medium-level cook could perhaps memorize a recipe... know that if you add exactly this much salt and exactly this much sugar, along with following everything else in the book to the letter, you get something that's at least decent and edible."

"A true chef...." Or, in Beak's case, a true Gri'kka, one who's truly fit to claim the title of leadership of her entire people, "... A master-level chef looks at cooking not as memorizing recipes, but as speaking an entire language. They understand the core components--understand what salt and sugar do, understand why you would add them to a dish, and they know what everything does so well that they almost don't even need recipes anymore. They could make their own recipes at that point. And this...." She holds up the book again. "... isn't that. Yet. But if I look at the recipes in here closely enough, maybe I can figure that part out, too...."

Despite her seeming lack of progress, her tone sounds very positive and encouraged... she even giggles again after concluding that speech. It's a challenge, yes, but she's closer than she's ever been, and she feels good about this... like the answers she's been seeking are almost within reach....

Rena coos softly, gently nuzzling right back against her wife as she nestles close, the lich purring a little louder, “...it’s not been easy. ka’to’bi has already had a few stumbles, but we’ve been helping her out wherever we can…there’re things we just aren’t allowed to help with, but…we help where we can…” she trills happily, briefly ducking her head as she nestles into Beak’s side.

Loci stumbles to a halt, chirping curiously and tilting his head at Staccato before zipping back toward the arachnid, the little skeleton vibrating a little as he looks up at Staccato, “y-yeah? W-was there something else you wanted?”

Back in the kitchen, Bell gently nudges his bondmate, who nods and steps out, the raven letting out a curious chirp before they speak, “...yes, actually. Do you remember if there’s anything you can’t eat? seasonings, meats, vegetables…? we’re currently working on something of a beef and vegetable stir fry, but if there’s something else you’d like we’d be happy to make another dish for you”

Bell and Hum continue their work, father and daughter chirping happily to each other as the specter instructs the skeleton on how to best prepare the current dish, the little copper eyed skeleton nodding along and following her father’s instructions to the best of her abilities…

…the other children each pick a spot on one of the nests of cushions and blankets scattered about the chamber, each pulling out the objects of their respective hobbies and setting to work…

He listened to Beak, without spacing as much this time. He even chuckled at the beginning from imagining himself ruining a dish.
While some vocabulary is lost on him, he seemed to piece together enough to get the overall message.


“Your people…?”

Staccato faintly understood that Rena and her family- the feathered ones at least- were likely part of a larger collective. The skeletal chicks, he couldn’t quite figure out.
Beak was another mystery altogether, so this tidbit about her own people did peek his interest.

But first-

“I don’t remember any of that, but dinner smells good!” he hollers his reply to Nev, “Thank you for that by the way!”

Now he can address Beak again, curiously eyeing her and the book.

“Okay, so you’re trying to master the things your people did. Why not ask them these things instead of the book? Are they far from here?”

He stepped over her way, only to stop at Loci’s little voice. He looked down in surprise… and then concern.

“Oh! You actually came back, but why..?”

Why was Loci shaking?
People shook when they were scared. Was Loci scared?? Staccato immediately thought back to what he said just as Loci had run off.
He wasn’t mad at the little guy. Maybe a little at most…
Did he sound mad..?

The arachnid shrunk back a little, grimacing.

“I mean, yeah, I just…” he faltered, dropping his voice to a sheepish mumble,
“-Wanted a hug too..”

He glanced back to Rena and Beak for help.

Oh, that's... an awkward question, mostly because Beak can't make any assumptions about how much Staccato knows. For most people, the fact that she is literally a skeleton would explain everything, but... does Staccato even know what a skeleton is? Beak hadn't considered that possibility. She doesn't want to insult her new friend by underestimating him and speaking down to him in any way--maybe the answer to that would be "of course he knows that, what kind of fool do you take him for??" But if he's asking, she can't... hmm. Hmmm. How to put it....

"Ah, my people... are... no longer with us, I'm afraid. They died... a very long time ago. So did I, actually. That's why I look like this." A soft, slightly sad chuckle. "I came back to life... but they didn't. You're right; there are so many things I wish I could ask them. But I don't know what brought me back, why I'm here like this, any more than you know why you have your present form. I'm just... here, somehow, for some reason, and the books are all that's left of my people."

She shakes her head, but rather than wallowing in the sadness for too long, she points at her own notes with barely-concealed eagerness.

"But see, that's why I want to do this, you know? Like... if my people were still around, then I wouldn't have to know all this stuff. That'd be their job. I could just be a warrior, someone who fights to keep them safe, while they handle all this smart ritual stuff I never had to learn. But... uh... now I'm the only one left, so that... changes things. But if I can do it, then that at least means someone can, right? Someone can learn these traditions, and maybe pass them down someday, and keep them alive."

She winces at the display--she knows Staccato didn't mean to frighten Loci. If anything, Staccato seems to just... not know his own predicament, and so things like that happen by pure accident. And she can relate. Stars above, can she relate.

"People like you and me..." she explains to Staccato, the "tone" of her mental voice sounding much sadder now, "... skeletons, spiders... we're... we can be scary to a lot of people. We don't mean to be. We just want hugs... friends... but people are afraid of us anyway. I... wish I had better answers for what we can do about that... it's something I've long struggled with, too." She puts a hand on Staccato's shoulder in sympathy... solidarity... friendship. "I suppose all we can do is just... keep in mind when some people are more nervous around us, or just... nervous in general. Loci's always been... shy? And I know he's not afraid of me. I don't think he's afraid of you, either. He's just shy, and startles easily. You just need to speak a little more quietly... like this, see?" Her tone has softened, turning into something almost soothing. "Just... try to be gentle."

Loci tilts his head slightly at the offer of a hug, those shining emerald eye lights seeming to examine Staccato for another moment before the little skeleton gently places down his sketchpad and slowly, almost shyly steps forward to hug the arachnid, the chick having to clamber up a little ways to reach Staccato’s midsection for a proper hug as he trills happily…

…Rena smiles softly at the sight, the lich letting out a happy little coo as she nestles against her wife’s side, those silver eye lights slowly drifting shut as she relaxes…it’s not been that long a day, but it’s better to be well rested for oncoming trials…the ones where the opposite is true are few and far between, if they exist at all…

…Loci’s siblings glance among themselves, each carefully setting down the objects and implements of their respective hobbies before utterly swarming Staccato with a flurry of chirps and trills as they clamber upon and hug the arachnid to the best of their abilities…

All except Hum, of course, who’s busy helping her father prepare dinner, Nev having since returned to report their guest’s unsurprising lack of memory regarding food preference and requirements, the raven rejoining their husband and daughter in preparing tonight’s stir fry…

Staccato quietly listened to this, expressions changing alongside his thoughts. Throughout these explanations, a set of realizations dawned on him; Beak could practically see the very second that it clicked.



She…died?

Wasn’t death supposed to be permanent? Dead people don’t move about like the living, do they? Skeletons were part of death, yes, he remembered that part.

Then how did Beak, a being of bones- stand before him? What was this about being “brought back to life?”

She spoke of magic; could it do stuff like that? Defy death itself? What was that even like…?

It must not be too bad with how excited she remained.



He looked at her upon feeling her hand, slowly putting his own hand over it. Was he comforted? Disheartened? Not even he fully knew. Either way, the gesture was appreciated and he let her hand stay. His face briefly changed to match her somber tone before little Loci once again captured his attention.

And right after that? His heart.

The sadness left his face as soon as Loci’s arms encircled his torso. Those bones held no warmth, and yet Staccato felt anything but cold. Instead the warmth of joy and closeness flooded his whole being. This upwelling of emotion surprised him, yet he kept it together as he slowly wrapped two arms around the skeletal chick, dipping his head until it rested on the little one’s shoulder.
After experiencing so much uncertainty and fear in these lands, this alone provided great comfort and satisfied him. 

Hearing the multitude of chirps, he opened his eyes and lifted his head.

“Huh?” His eyes widened, gawking at the incoming horde of children, “Wait, woah-!”



Equal parts excited and panicked, he had only enough time to spread his arms and shift his weight to his feet, and even then he stumbled at the sudden weight change. He went down on one knee, scrambling to get all four arms around them before any of them could slip and fall, holding them all as tight as he could manage. 
He started chuckling, chuckling at this strange yet wonderful situation. As his joy only grew stronger, so did his voice as it raised into a jolly laugh.

The overwhelming emotion he partially kept in check before now fully burst through. His vision blurred as tears sprang into his eyes. Still he laughed, even while trying to wipe his eyes on his shoulder.

“Hah?? What’s going on?” He giggled and sniffled, “Why am I crying, what-??”



Remembering what Beak just told him, he then lowered his voice to just above a whisper:



“Heh, heheh, I’m sorry, I feel like I’ve done this before-“

As all good things do, this moment eventually came to an end, with the arachnid carefully releasing the chicks and gazing down at them with a bright grin.

"Wow. I think I actually needed that, that was awesome-" he quickly dried his eyes with a hand, "You guys are great!"

And that is why Beak didn't want to make assumptions. Turns out their new friend didn't know, which is fine. Just means she has a little bit more explaining to catch him up, is all.

Or... perhaps not. It looked for a moment there that he was curious about something, possibly just about to ask a question. She certainly would have had quite a lot to say, if that were the case. She's more than happy to answer anything he wants to know at this point. Before that could happen, though, the rest of the family came through and swarmed him in that way they have. It's hard for anyone to say sad when they're surrounded by such love and fluff and warmth, isn't it? Beak certainly still remembers when the same treatment from them pulled her out of her own depression.

"Seems like they like you," Beak says with a small, amused giggle. "See? Told you; you just have to be gentle, is all. They're sweethearts... and it seems you must be, too, or they wouldn't have taken to you so quickly. And if you needed that... well... glad you were able to get it, then. No one deserves to go without it...."