Shadow Mountain Come on, lets go break their arms.

Aah sorry for taking my time with this, I probably can't match you. D:

He is alone for a small window of time and he manages to catch his breath moments before the wind hints at company; he is glad for it, eager enough to test himself against this mountain but more-so against the teeth of an adversary. Revui has already mentally claimed this mountain as hey climbed its many paths, deeming himself the minotaur of this labyrinth (in more basic terms, of course). He stands tall upon a stretch of exposed bedrock where roots white-knuckle in to the ancient soil, the trees long since felled to the will of the mountain and leaving massive ruins of petrified pine. Between these desiccated once-spires he lurks; but before long the scent he has found becomes something greater, and he prowls after the sound of something moving.

He is pleased to find a wolf marching among the ruins with him. She is young enough from what he can tell, glancing her way with that predatory eye of his. Pale, although not entirely. There is a messy configuration of dark marks across her coat which he assumes are merely shadows dappling her from the surrounding trees and abutments, until she steps in to the open, at least. There is a sense of vigor to her: heavy breathing, wind-burned cheeks, the airy mineral scent Revui had noticed of the mountainside as he'd ascended it. She had been tempted by the mountain too. They were alike in their fixation.

She must have noticed him in return. His presence was obvious enough as he put forth no effort to conceal himself, but Revui was more at-home here upon this mountain than anywhere upon the lowlands nor in Merrick's valley. He was a bulwark, some sort of gargoyle cleaved of the mountain itself, blending in adequately beneath the boughs of the pines. He does not greet the girl so much as present himself to her—striding in to the light so that summer's glow may touch upon him, spotlit.