Sunbeam Lair i have become death, the destroyer of worlds

the altitude that salvatore has climbed to offers a thinning of oxygen that makes each breath he takes a bit more shallow; a bit more of an effort. `course, he isn't used to being so elevated from sea level. up here there is a crispness to the taste of the air that distinctly lacks the tangy salt of the sea, the grit of sand. absent of it, the cleanliness of the snow caps and the almost metallic scent of wind whittled stone seems dull in comparison. still, he is sure footed as he climbs the mountain's steeple steps as treacherous as the salty and damp rocks of the loch.

the sun has begun it's descent in the horizon, painting the world sprawled out beneath him: tops of trees and rolling plains of land yet to be discovered by him, in a fiery gold. singular coal glow gaze looks out at it, admiring it for a small sliver of a moment before pushing on. he knows he is racing against time; to find shelter for the night before the true bone numbing cold of the mountain height sets in and inch by inch as the cresting horizon swallows the sun and the moon rises to claim her throne salvatore swears it drops a degree.

it does not take him long to come upon a cavern and to give pause, snow crunching beneath his steps; a low curse uttered. there was a shape outlined in the golden kohl of the setting sun. he doesn't want to find another place to lay low for the night but everything from his past tells him that others are not overly inclined to share ( lest it be the usurper king sharing the bed of a concubine and that was oft not by choice of said concubine ). hesitantly, ready to keep moving on his way — because he was tired whether it be from the climb or from not being used to being up so high — if she proves unfriendly; salvatore lets out a low chuff to announce his presence on the off chance that she wasn't already aware of him.