Sunbeam Lair Sour switchblade

Wretched silver crept from shadow to shadow, light feet kept her quick and quiet; a red-eyed wraith making her way through the mountains, down into this cavern.

Here, the winter snow did not bury the land, the cavern kept everything moist and warm, growing as if spring had just begun. Oh! Her little heart pattered in her chest with delight. Shame it was such a bloody far walk, she paused to shake a paw out, sore and cracked from the trek; she was so tunnel visioned that the ache only set in now that she'd stopped. Pale jaws cracked open to unleash a groan, pitched and dramatic, echoing off the cavern walls as she tossed her head back.

When her display was finished, she would continue on unaffected, eyes scrying over the plant life, discerning the useful from the useless.

A fine enough challenge, but oh she ached for more. She wanted to fix something, not simply stockpile—even if it was the most pressing of her duties right now. Envy had never let herself be limited. Sharp, tattered ears failed to take in her surroundings, her mind too busy running a mile a minute. Nasty habit of hers, it was a wonder she didn't end up in worse situations.