Sunbeam Lair Could you be more elusive

@Tulimaq I know he was near Swiftcurrent Creek so feel free to find her here afterwards :)

Joining the island pack had not ended well. Nym found herself alone once more, returning to the reclusive mountains on her own.

As evening lengthened into dusk, the heavens took on a bipolar coloring. At her back the sky was cerulean, as blue as the waters she'd left behind. Ahead of her, peeking over the mountain, the sky was alight with a soft rosy pink. Overhead they clashed to form some purplish color, reminiscent of a dark bruise. 

Chilly winds blew The Reaper towards a cavern, the damp ground replaced by soft moss underfoot. The natural carpet silenced the girl's steps as she entered cautiously, pale muzzle tipped up as she sniffed the air for dangerous scents. Any that lingered were stale, unidentifiable, and the pallid girl relaxed with the realization that she was alone. 

Plant life clustered the edges of the lair, leaving Nym to settle a few paces from its opening. The calls of small creatures caused her ears to flicker, beckoning her to explore the wonders of the cave yet she remained - golden optics locked on the skies as rain began to fall once more. 

She was reluctant to abandon the light, stretching comfortably upon the ground and resting her head on her paws. 

On his way south again (away from the borders of a pack he had not anticipated to exist), he paused by the ledge of river stones where he'd met with Greyback and, on a whim, plunged in to the river. When he came up on the other side he was drenched and freezing but it was an invigorating sensation that clawed across his skin. He wondered just what was in the mountains; before him was a massive, nameless chain of rolling hills that rose in to cliffs and gulleys, and never before had Tulimaq felt so intrigued about the landscape of these wilds. He knew these mountains had been here — he was living in their shadow and had been for weeks — but he had not yet traveled close enough to experience them.

Enamored by the prospect of climbing through their lower reaches, the man chose to deviate for the rest of the day (and in to the evening) and challenge himself. Life was built on challenges and Tulimaq was keen to prove himself capable to overcome them. A few hours in to his hike and he paused, looking over his shoulder at the path which had brought him this far; the sky had been ignited with many flamboyant colors. He was not as impressed by the sky as he was of these hills, the effect they had on him. He sighed as he began to move again, tasting the minerality of stones in the air. It smelled a little like rain was on the way.

Tulimaq did not want to slow his pace, but he found that he had to. The mountain continued to rise and split beneath him and he knew, no matter how eager he was, that he would need to turn around soon. But the evening had lost some of its luster — the colors dulling, the air growing a little stale as he stalked along. He almost missed the scent of wolf in the air, but when he caught it he zeroed in, and began to investigate. Soon enough he came upon a dip in the rock that trailed down towards a blackened cave mouth. He was soundless as he entered it, peering through the dark and expecting to see — well, he wasn't sure. A wolf, probably. Maybe more than one, although he hadn't detected a layered scent like that of a pack-dweller.

When he spotted the reclined figure of a pale wolf upon the floor of the lair, he paused in his advance and let out a chuff; if he was going to disturb one of the locals, he'd prefer it look intentional.

As the evening progressed, her eyelids grew heavier until at last she let them slip shut - ears still flicking slightly in time to sound; Nym had learned to sleep lightly long ago.

At the chuff her eyes opened, the golden optics not quite meeting his own molten orbs. They settled blankly on the grey hues of his smoky coat, small ears flattening against her head. 

The motions were there, the submission of a woman smaller than he, but they lacked a true fear. The Reaper's lips parted, a soft sound leaving her. It was clear that if he'd come for trouble, she wasn't worth it. 

For all the world, the child soldier seemed meek and oppressed; nothing of the violence of her past visible except for the darkness swirling in her gaze, the blackened scars against her shoulder - a brand of the war charter. 

She reacted strangely to his arrival. Perhaps not so strange if he had known what sort of life she'd led, or one he assumed she had left behind because of her submissive qualities. It is not difficult to outwit Tulimaq if you were to try, and this woman can do that easily enough. He does not suspect anything is amiss aside from her attitude and weakness, and it puts a swift damper on his mood. Tulimaq has had enough of weakness; he does not have the patience for soft bodies and unwilling minds, having grown bitter in the short time he's lived within the valley. A part of him hoped that the beasts of the mountains would be more than their plainsrunner kin, but he has yet to prove such a thing. This pale woman, sprawled out in a cave and shrinking back from his presence, only adds fuel to his already charged frustration.

He huffs and presses forward. It does not matter if she shrinks away from him or stares, he means her no harm. Tulimaq is accustomed to a strength shared between the sexes and he does not see anything wrong with striking a woman, but there is no reason for him to lash out upon this stranger, and he is not as volatile as his surly nature might have others believe. He slouches, sitting against the cave floor, and then slides down to his belly so he is sphinx-like against the adjacent wall. There is enough of a gap for her to flee through if she feels stressed enough to do so. For now, he listens to the rain and waits for the tense atmosphere in the cave to ebb.

He seemed to have mistaken her instinctive response as cowardice but the girl doesn't bother to correct him. It's better he think her weak for now, the less notice she might attract to herself. Were his mind sharper he would see a fiery will buried in her molten optics, strength beneath the pale coat. 

Cool eyes watch him enter, offering neither welcome nor hostility. 

He sinks to the floor on long limbs, sharp eyes on the rain outside. The woman who was once Nym feels no tension, but he seems uncomfortable. Pillowing her head upon her paws, her eyes turned back to the outside world, seeing no reason to speak in her halting rasp. 

Whether things ebb or not, he is soon distracted by the sound of the clouds — they sound as if they are tearing in to pieces outside, and suddenly the rain is ten times worse. The spitting rain has become a frigid downpour, and while Tulimaq is content with the cold and unafraid of inclement weather, he is pleased to have gotten away from it for the time being. He's staring at the entryway to the grotto as the rain pours down, and the scents outside began to dampen until they were also quite muted.

That meant, of course, that the cave was the safest place at the moment. It was warmer than outside, and growing warmer the longer the two wolves shared space. Tulimaq began to relax out of habit; he was accustomed to living with a horde of wolves even after the many weeks of exploration and fixation upon the valley. He missed the camaraderie of Tartok. So, in a bid to be more accommodating to the silent female, he murmurs to her: I am sorry for invading your space, but I am glad to avoid the rain.

She was prepared to block him out - strange man that he was with judgement in his eyes for her habits - in favor of dozing lightly while the rain drummed against the stone roof of the cave. Yet, he has other ideas. His words lift her lids, sunshine optics finding him again to observe with passing curiosity. 

"S'not mine," she corrected him - devoid of malice. "No need for sorry." 

The other wolf wasn't much of a conversationalist; it reminded Tulimaq of the surly disposition of his kin, because wolves of Tartok tended to rely less on words and more on action. He missed that. He had started to grow homesick in the past week or so, and this woman was bringing those feelings back. The rain continued to pour outside, and he settled in to a sense of calm as it thrummed upon the earth. He had nothing else to say to this female, and so he relaxed.

He seemed content to fall into silence - a first for the child warrior who was so accustomed to those of her kind that preferred the spoken language. Nym couldn't help but study him, at peace even in the close proximity of a stranger. 

How she envied him. 

"Who're you?" Came her simple question, for she's only learned a tad of verbal language in her short time here, curiosity lining her tones and shining through her molten optics as they peer at him. 

It surprised him when the silence was broken; there was no way for him to tell how much time had passed between his self-imposed silence and the voice of the woman. The rain droned on. Her question came, and he sort of.. Not really startled awake, but he had started to doze a little as he listened to the weather and her voice roused him. He sucked in a small breath, tasting the petrichor.

Tulimaq Tartok. The man answered. He didn't turn the question back on the pale wolf — rather, he waited quietly as she digested the name. He doubted she would recognize his surname because very few wolves ever did.

When silence met him, Tulimaq was fine with it. But the rain gradually let up and he took that as a cue to continue on his way - he did not say farewell, but rather, slipped out of the cave and along the nearby ridge without another word.