Silvertip Mountain Mind of Stone, Heart of Glass

Setting - 18:00, Clear Skies, 70 degrees.
Forward dated to after Aphrodite’s rescue. (Whenever that will be lol)

With a mind muddled from recent events, he treks west of his newly claimed territory of Ravensblood Forest, to a mountain he knew not the name of. He travels along the side of the mountain, sticking to the dangerous ledges that have become trails over decades of others just like him. The trails are narrow and the wind is threatening at these heights. It doesn’t stop him, neither does the aching of his muscles at the steep upward climb, for the memories continue to shovel coal into the engine that is his mind to keep him going.

A cave catches his eyes and as fast as he’s able, he makes it into the suspicious tear in the mountain face. Skulking around and sniffing, leathery nose to the ground, and ears swiveling to listen. He catches a scent, but only hears droplets of water and the forever whistling wind that bounces off the cave walls.

Brows furrowing at the scent that alerts him, he drives onward. Golden hues looking at the various assortment of crystals that lines the rocky walls, ceilings, and floors. The further he goes in, the darker it gets. He’s able to see light reflecting off of a particularly big crystal, the beam bountiful with the vibrant colors of the rainbow reach another, then another, then another. Eventually as his gaze travels, following the endless supply of rainbows, he’s astonished by the pictures painted by the reflections. Extraordinary pictures, are painted all over the walls, everything is bathed in the vibrant hues of the light from so far back into the cave.

Then all peace and quiet comes to a grueling halt when a shuffling meets his ears. Looking up to find the sheen of red eyes reflecting back at him. The thing looking absolutely monstrous by the reflection on the beast before him. It’s a wolverine. Black fur tinted with all types of hues, four inch long claws tap tap tap on the gravely floor as he comes forward, fearless of the wolf that bares himself so confidently before him. Donovan, baring his teeth viciously, he stands tall and squares his shoulders. Snapping jaws, the noise echoes off the walls along with a savage growl resonating deep from Donovan’s throat as he goes toe to toe with this wolverine.