Sunbeam Lair Horizon

@Stigmata hope here is alright?

The mouth of the cavern yawns lazily into the night, beckoning the rangy creature forward as surely as flame beckons the moth. She inhales the damp, frosty air, tasting it as she descends without a second thought into the stretching darkness. Her eyes adjust as she continues, and she surveys her surroundings. The space is vast, more open than she'd imagined, with fragmented moonlight streaming through the crumbled ceiling and highlighting scattered spots across the cavern floor. Morning will certainly bring with it a more thorough exploration, but an eye-watering yawn reminds her of her purpose. She half-circles the perimeter once, finding an adequately dry space to stretch out for the night. Yet it seems sleep is not on the agenda; her mind begins to race the moment she settles, though the weight of exhaustion keeps her in place. The shadows swallow her thin dark frame easily, and the only evidence of her presence is the pale glinting gold of her eyes and the steady, shallow sound of her breath.

here is poif, also thank you for starting!

and it was that light - a piercing glimmer of yellow-grape eyes - that lured sandraudiga out of a suppressive, dark corner of the refrigerated lair and bade him him to investigate the source of such otherworldly illumination. with a panther's languid stride, the phatomesque figure slunk forward to bask for a moment in a slim shaft of moonlight, revealing his flinty features and long, razor-faced form to the wolf hidden neatly in the dry shadows.

he kept his distance, unable to ascertain much about this wolf other than her gender, roundabout age, and the stench of absence clinging to her like an unpleasant soap - the same besmirching scent (or lack thereof) that clung to him. he had come here for a reason, perhaps just to scour the trowels there more thoroughly than he had the first time, but what machinations compelled him before were quiet now in the face of another lone wolf in the mountains he would dare to claim.

stigmata slithered quietly from beneath his spotlight, and approached until she uttered a protest.

❤

She hears movement, gaze flitting toward the source and fixing on the towering figure as he steps into the light. The sight of him sparks what little energy she possesses, and she stirs. There is a wariness to her expression, a sharpness to her gold eyes, but she rises slowly as if lifting the weight of the world with her. Her gaze stays fixed on the other, unblinking. She finds little remarkable about the stranger aside size from her brief moonlit observation, though his silent approach does little to assure her of good intentions. Yes? Her voice is sharp, posture tense. She waits.

as her voice cut like a dagger through the dark, stigmata glided collectedly to a stop and eased into a polite sit. "forgive me," he entreated, then huffed: "but i am truly tired of being alone." there was no getting around what he had approached for, and he wasn't too proud to admit when he was lonely. for solitude was a terrible condition for a wolf - a fate he would only wish on his worst enemies.

knowing she was not likely to trust him at face value - as dark as it was, and with his generally untrustworthy face (on second thought, it was probably best she could not make out the dour specifics of his foreboding countenance) - the embattled wolf slid to his belly and lay prone, several wolflengths away. "i will lie here and remain quiet, if you would just be so kind as to... tolerate my presence, for a time."

Her prickling hackles settle against her back as the stranger halts his approach, eyes glittering as he speaks. She pauses over his words, the sentiment rolling and churning within her thoughts for a few stretching moments. She shifts uncomfortably. She is unaccustomed to being caught off-guard, and not entirely eager to acquaint herself with the feeling. The moment of surprise has allowed something like pity to creep up her throat, unwanted and foul-tasting. Yet she obliges the feeling.
Closer, She invites tonelessly, unbothered if he ignores the half-hearted request. She sinks slowly back down, drawing her tongue over her lips lazily as she studies the stranger. Perhaps the disturbance is a blessing in disguise, an opportunity to satisfy her own needs. The motivation to pursue such an end ultimately escapes her, and she only watches him expectantly. Her initial wariness lingers only in hints; the questioning nature of a cynic lives within her, but so too does the blind ego of a narcissist, and she finds little reason for caution in the face of his request, genuine or not. She crosses one bony foreleg over the other, forcing the last of the tension from her body as she reminds herself that she is capable.

closer, she bid him - but how close did she mean?

he hardly hesitated to explore her newly amended boundaries; finding himself almost overly willing to put his body in harm's way just to find out how receptive to him she was. despite his eagerness, the wolf was prudent and moved meticulously so as not to rile her. this was no white-toothed hatchling - but a full-grown and refined harpy; wild-forged and savage as she was dark.

stigmata crawled forward - inched carefully until he had come within radius to spring - and then elected to incapacitate himself further by shifting to lie on his side. he dragged himself forward the remaining distance, grappling with the cold, crumbling earth to come to a stop just at the dainty intersection of her slender paws.

setting his muzzle haphazardly close, he searched her hawkish expression almost imploringly for an indication of what she wanted him to do next. is this too close?

when she rebuffed him, stigmata relented on his boundary-pushing and settled with plenty space between them for the night. the silence was companionable, but everlasting, and the two parted ways without sharing another word.