the usefulness of this uselessness

Although focused, Lyra would never be too focused to not know what was happening with her siblings. Every once in a while, she would take a momentary break to scan her surroundings, her eyes meeting the face of each sibling. Assessing their emotions and frustrations should their face show it. An ear would perk up, listening to Modesty's explanation for Pythia.

Lyra looked at the two, reading the confusion on her sister's face. Watching her sister struggle pulled at her heartstrings. She really wanted to help and even felt guilty for not offering. However, no one else was. Mother was only offering what was absolutely necessary. It was hard, but it was imperative. There was even more purpose to finish the toy now, almost a way for Lyra to say sorry for not helping. Not that anyone was asking, but Lyra was quickly learning that familial duties shouldn't even need to be requested. You should just know what to do or be there even if you don't.

Further burying herself in her work, every failure would be answered with even more vigor. Each time she was a little closer to figuring it out only motivated her more and more. Eventually, she would successfully push the cord through the hole her fangs bore in the stick. It required her to tie a loose knot around a skinnier stick. This way she could needle the cord through. Modesty's words echoed through her mind, "Useful things like baskets or bowls, or pretty but useless things like charms and decorations.". She realized she did not want a pretty useless thing for her sister... she wanted to help. How could she?

Many ideas cycled through her mind, she tried really hard to put herself in the paler pup's paws... If she did not have sight, then what would she rely on? Scent? Yes... but Lyra could not come up with anything that could help her sister with that specific sense. What else? The way the world felt... That was too broad of a sense for Lyra to figure out what to do with.

What about sound?

An idea clicked in her head. Remembering all the sweet twinkles and chimes of the different materials interacting. In the doorway of some merchant dens, there were little chimes hanging. These were great at letting merchants know whenever someone entered. You couldn't help but brush against the long strings, which made a distinct noise. Lyra remembered how she found those things scratched her brain in a satisfying way. So, eventually, Pythia would have a room of her own. As much as Lyra preferred everyone to stay together forever, she was not foolish enough to know that would happen. It would be important for her to know! What if someone meant to harm Pythia? How could she hear them if they didn't have these chimes!?

Immediately she buried the stick in her maw, gnawing new holes in. This time much closer in order to pipe more strings through. Eventually, she would loop the string around or through the various beads and shells and whatnot. She may need her mother's assistance when that time came but she would try her hardest before asking.


"Speech!"