Silvertip Mountain but what's inside you?

keeping things vague concerning nightwalkers

out for a cigarette break, he's taking his time leaning against a rock wall when a rain breaks. he sighs and grinds his foot out on the floor before looking around in search of shelter. he is a tall and slender silhouette made even taller and more slender by the way he stands, like he is pulling himself together. it's cold. it's a world of fog and water.
he grunts as a fat raindrop explodes on the back of his neck. he puts his collar up. the ground under him is slippery and unreliable and his calf muscles tense with everytime some mud gives way under his weight. there's a cave up ahead. he picks his way up towards the dark mouth, fingers splayed, and finds that he isn't the only person looking for shelter from the rain.
aside from a deep sigh, he's quiet. the inside of the cave is crystalline. the facets wink at him with the overcast lighting. huh.