Shadow Mountain who made you like this

She remains steep in her domination, fuelled by the advantage a higher elevation brings as she watches him scrabble upwards. Part of her is waiting for him to make a misstep, ears pricking almost pre-emptively for the clatter of rocks that would signal his untimely demise. But it does not come. 

"You climb like goat," she muses aloud, cold eyes surveying his figure in turn. There is a slight note of approval in her tone, appreciative of his submission though Nagruk is still reluctant to budge from her throne. The urge to drive him away from her domain is cut short by a curiosity to know who this man is and what he may prove to be. 

Sweeping forwards, she comes to investigate his scent with a quirk of her lip. "It is mine now. Taggalijâjuk." Her figure drapes his upper half in darkness. "The mountain that casts a shadow."