The gods had called him here. Of this, he was certain. They'd pulled him from sleep, in the midst of a frigid autumn night, calling to him to the west. Their voices were more than whispers in his head - their voices came in the form of the the howling winds, whistling mercilessly above his den. The call belonged to Höðr and to Skaði, the bringers of winter. Not wanting to evoke their rage, he would shuffle from his den, slinking into the darkness with the slyness of a fox. The temperatures had been dropping overall, but with the fierce winds, it was a particularly cold fall night even for these northern lands. Despite this, it was not a terrible night - the moon was obscured beneath layers of clouds, offering the slightest glimpse of light to illuminate the otherwise pitch black world, the stars struggling to shine through alongside it.

Kom til fjellet, they sang to him. Groggy from being awakened from sleep, he moved as quickly as his paws could carry him over the still terrain. He felt Jǫrmungandr clinging tightly to his neck, hissing in protest at the frigid air, attempting to bury herself in his fur. Despite the howling winds, there was an eerie aura of stillness tonight; as though the earth itself had paused, for him and him alone. The feeling would linger as he traveled closer to the mountains that towered to the west, though he knew wolves slept nearby and nocturnal creatures were likely using the winds as an excuse to hunt and move quietly. Vi har mye å vise deg. The ancient words bounced around in his head, his emerald stare slightly concealed as he squinted to brace them against the wind.

His eyes, finally adjusted to the lack of light, made out the outline of the base of the mountain. If he wasn't mistaken - a high possibility, given how foggy his mind felt currently and the viewing conditions -  he was certain he saw the mouth of a cave that led into the mountainside itself. Curious, wondering if this was why the gods had ushered him here, his pace increased for some time until he found himself standing face-to-face with the dark opening of a cavern. Nostrils flared as he leaned into the cave, sniffing at the damp stale air for signs of another. It seemed to be quite empty. As soon as he stepped inside, he noted the howling wind grew fiercer, likely a result of the cavern's structure. Certain that he had found something interesting, he would move carefully into the abyss, his pupils dilating as he became accustomed to the pitch darkness, paws moving carefully - as he had no idea what he mind find here. Even Jǫrmungandr seemed wary, and the bush viper would unfurl slightly to rest near the top of his head, grateful for the reprieve from the unbearable wind, but her silence was unnerving.. did she feel something was off about this place, too?
 

WARNING: Kaprasíus is extremely prone to violence, including maim fights & character claiming.
Katja is also welcome in any and all of his threads, without warning.
He also has a bush viper companion named Jǫrmungandr.

She was lost, both in location and for guidance. Ixora had wanted to make something of herself, play games with the lives of others and just cause some bit of havoc. But how would she? The young girl knew nothing of such things, what it took to become powerful and strike fear into the heart of others. There was no teacher, there was only small prey that died with a single bite.

Speaking of which... the small shewolf rose from where she lay within the caverns. Dull grey eyes stared down at the carcass of a hare she had been munching on, narrowing in disinterest. Lips rose in a silent snarl, tongue rubbing over her stained snout. She was bored with this one, and it didn't bring any ounce of enjoyment. Paw smacked the creature aside, a few of its bones scraping across the stone as she walked past and down into a tunnel.

Ears twitched, catching movement up ahead. Somebody was here... Quickly the girl crouched into the darkened shadows, tail held above the ground and steps silent as she continued forward.

The darkness of the cavern was only broken intermittently, by streaks of moonlight filtering through cracks in the cavern walls and ceilings. He swore he saw the gods playing tricks on him - or perhaps it was just Loki, trickster as he was - casting pictures on the walls, only the briefest glimpses of what once was. The pictures were faded and worn, hardly visible at all in the darkness of night, and he felt his attention wavering as he moved through the twists and turns of the cave.

The scent of a stranger became known to him after awhile of aimless wandering. By now, he was definitely lost.. but he knew the gods would not let him die in here. He would sniff loudly at the air as his head lowered, trailing after the stranger's scent. "Who goes there?" he would ask gruffly, his head swinging to the side as he searched for her in the darkness. Did the gods send you here too?, he wondered silently. The only other sound was the quiet hissing of his companion as she burrowed into the fur of his neck once again.

WARNING: Kaprasíus is extremely prone to violence, including maim fights & character claiming.
Katja is also welcome in any and all of his threads, without warning.
He also has a bush viper companion named Jǫrmungandr.

Silent as she could be, the young female kept to the darkness of the cavern and moved ever closer to the stranger. Distance was kept, for she could just see the outline of what she could identify from the scent was a male, larger than herself but by no means a giant. Ears flicked forward at his audible sniff, a gruff voice asking for who goes it within the darkness. At first she chose not to speak a single word, just carefully making her way up a small pile of large rubble and onto a ledge that would bring her above the man's path. But then something flickered, demanding she spoke.

"Boredom..." Voice was light, trailing off with a light hum. Back legs folded beneath her body, sitting with the toes of her forepaws curling over the ledge she sat upon. For a moment her chin would tuck inward, bringing her head down to allow a ray of moonlight to streak across the colored side of her face. Grey eyes narrowed the slightest in that moment, focused on the dark form ahead and below her position while her skull tilted a fraction to the right in curiosity. This wasn't exactly a place for people to gather, so what brought the male?

If he had not only recently woken up, and if he was not certain he had not taken drugs since the previous day, he would've swore he was hallucinating. The pictures seemed to grow clearer as his single good eye adjusted to the dim light, swiveling wildly in its socket as it tried to examine his surroundings and paint a mental picture of the direction he was heading.

She was silent for a long while, and his nose wrinkled in distaste. He was in no mood to be ambushed, and he stiffened when he heard the stranger speak again. Boredom, she answered. "I said who goes there," he would exclaim, a half-cackle, accentuated by the slight grin that toyed with his lips. "I have a hard time believing that is your name." He moved forward a bit more when he caught a glimpse of her, revealed as the moonlight shone down through the cavern's cracks overhead.

"How can one be bored in here?" he would ask, daring to get closer. His head was held low to the earth, eye fixated on her unblinkingly. Briefly the brute would gesture to the walls next to them, which seemed to be painted with ancient pictures. He hadn't gotten a good look at them, but they looked quite interesting.

WARNING: Kaprasíus is extremely prone to violence, including maim fights & character claiming.
Katja is also welcome in any and all of his threads, without warning.
He also has a bush viper companion named Jǫrmungandr.