Sunspire Mountains so deep down in your ground

Despite the little demon within him that grinned at the prospect of sharing — whether it be the goat, or more, perhaps? — Vonn was never one to leave another in their time of need. Seeing her predicament and taking heed of her gesture, he couldn’t not arrive to her aid.

So, being the fallen that Stigmata had deemed him to be, with a doting ”Of course,” Vonn melted from his snowy perch and glided through the air to her obsidian side. He alit on featherlight paws, only a little ruffled, and regarded the poor goat with his lean flank caressing her own. ”You are most generous, señorita,” a coaxing tone and prowling words, but genuine nonetheless.

Then, with a luxurious stretch of his rounded shoulders, Vonn knelt and thew his weight forward; shoulder, chest and neck flush with the boulder, scarred face worked into a grimace from the strain. There was a sliver of enough room for the wanderess to follow suite.