Permafrost Hollows locked up, naked with socks

Eyebrows raise, a pleased smirk creeps upon the ink of his muzzle—likely distorted, awkward and ugly. Yet there it curls in its glory as Zephyr echoes his thoughts aloud. This is nice. Not dissimilar from the Lair, but the twists make it feel more like theirs then the prior location ever would have.
Me too, Kratos rumbles—low gravelly voice carrying through the tunnels. Zephyr trails ahead, Kratos follows him on his heels. The sharp turn takes him by surprise, enough that a bark of laughter escapes him, and he takes off after.