Sunbeam Lair Sour switchblade

Wretched silver crept from shadow to shadow, light feet kept her quick and quiet; a red-eyed wraith making her way through the mountains, down into this cavern.

Here, the winter snow did not bury the land, the cavern kept everything moist and warm, growing as if spring had just begun. Oh! Her little heart pattered in her chest with delight. Shame it was such a bloody far walk, she paused to shake a paw out, sore and cracked from the trek; she was so tunnel visioned that the ache only set in now that she'd stopped. Pale jaws cracked open to unleash a groan, pitched and dramatic, echoing off the cavern walls as she tossed her head back.

When her display was finished, she would continue on unaffected, eyes scrying over the plant life, discerning the useful from the useless.

A fine enough challenge, but oh she ached for more. She wanted to fix something, not simply stockpile—even if it was the most pressing of her duties right now. Envy had never let herself be limited. Sharp, tattered ears failed to take in her surroundings, her mind too busy running a mile a minute. Nasty habit of hers, it was a wonder she didn't end up in worse situations.

For the first time in his life, Bushtit argued with Towhee when she tried to coax him out of the lowlands. She only convinced him by promising him to show him “a desert in the mountains.” Although that wasn’t quite accurate, her son immediately took to Mereo’s old stomping grounds, especially when she showed him the housing. When she told him about “#1A,” he insisted on sleeping there that night, which turned into several more.

He slept there now, an afternoon siesta taken after the two of them spent all morning play-fighting in the old sparring pits. Towhee climbed out of the canyon to find them something to eat, pausing on its lip to gaze over the rundown remains of the former outpost. She let herself think of Maxim and the others briefly, then turned and began her hunt.

Her paws carried her to the familiar mouth of Sunbeam Lair, though Towhee didn’t walk inside. She paused to peer through the dim doorway, an equally dim memory replaying in her head. Her jaw dropped when a silvery figure flitted around the cavern in present day, the resemblance to Eshe so uncanny it made her hackles prickle.

Envy worked meticulously to unearth a patch of creeping thyme from the cave floor, crafty claws digging into soil, carefully avoiding the puncture of precious stems, not that there wasn't plenty to go around, but Envy took pride in her work and so, worked to avoid even the smallest of mistakes.

So zoned in she had been, she had scarce noticed the presence of another until she caught the staring figure out of the corner of blood-red eyes. Like a cat being startled, Envy gave a half-scramble as she turned around, tattered ears pinned back and hackles raised and crooked tail thrashing. God! Like what ya see creep?

It wasn’t long before the wolf—a stranger, not Eshe, of course—noticed her. She startled, her lips twisting as she spat something at Towhee. Her orange eyes squinted but she didn’t quite catch the words. Judging from the woman’s reaction, that was possibly for the best.

Sorry, didn’t mean to spook you, she said, holding up a paw. I was just passing through the area and seeing you in there gave me a wild case of déjà vu, Towhee added but did not elaborate.

Envy let her head fall to the side as wide, red eyes ogled every bit that there was to the larger woman, peeling her apart with her eyes alone. Dark and yet flame-streaked, the white of winter snow mingling with each hue. Envy gave a brief shake, regaining her bearings, scrappy fur resisted her attempts to smooth it back.

Well. She huffed as she stood and let light feet carry her closer, closer, closer, enough to invasively sniff at the side of the other, undaunted and woefully confident in her stride. M' not who you thought I was. Happy now? She mused, leering in before circling around her and coming back to the front.