Sunbeam Lair like the river, you just come and go

He skittered back even further as she lunged toward him. But it was only a feint. He lingered lankily by the entrance to the Lair, not really sure what to do anymore. When she told him about the healer and his plants, Skífa snorted. He'd met someone like that too when he'd been sick a while ago. The Good Healer. The Good Healer had hunted down a mountain lion before. Skífa wondered if he would have killed this one, or helped her.

Skífa couldn't help her, though. And he couldn't kill her either.

Her plea made his ears fall back to his head again. Finally, ever so slowly, Skífa looked away. He looked to the side, sharp copper eyes grazing across the floor, deliberately removing his attention from her. He half-expected her to charge at him again, while his guard was lowered. If only his old mates could see him now; even a little soft-heartedness would get him killed, they'd remind him. They would have made sure of it, too, if mother nature didn't kill him first.

"Shh." He skulked to the exit of the den. "Good luck, little cat." He still avoided looking directly at her. But he smiled again, anyway, to himself if not to her. He loved to smile. All the bitterest, and wickedest, and cruelest smiles - and the nicer ones, too, sometimes. It reminded him of the strength in his teeth. "Find somewhere better to hide. High up - to stay away from wolves, huh?"

After a blink, he'd duck back out into the wintry morning and limp into the snow, as tirelessly as he could, searching for somewhere else to rest or something else to eat.

exits, unless she tries to keep him from leaving :)