Perched outside of the mine's entrance, carefully placed upon a sturdy beam, the ashen owl peered around at the twilight scenery. Stars, once sickened by an awful plague, twinkled with a breath of new life. Becoming accustomed to the setting and rising of the sun he remembered fondly, the wolf felt at peace once again. With his owl as a lookout, he listened for her soft hoots and rustling of feathers. Surely, he wouldn't find trouble here, but he never knew. Having traveled north to a land he felt fond of, Gilgamesh came across the abandoned mineshaft. Peering inside the dark crevices, he had asked Erish to light a branch with a piece of flint and stone between her claws. It had been difficult, but after some time and coaxing, the owl had obliged and he finally had some light to see within the dark. Why was he here, one may ask. In truth, he was searching for a hobby to pass his time between pack situations and the loneliness of missing Modesty. The sickness had separated them for better or for worse, but he did miss her sweet disposition. Grasping the branch between his teeth, he let out a quiet sigh as he traveled not too far down the main shaft line. Wolves naturally had good eyesight so to someone else, the fire would not make sure. He needed it for other reasons. Such as warming clay and then drying it if he could find any. Coming around a bend, Gil spotted a pile of mysterious items that he had no name for. Some pieces were rusted and most were coated in dirt and debris from sitting for so long. This will do. He thinks to himself as he sets the fire stick down and begins to rummage through the pile for things worth using. SPEECH

Had he ever been this far north before? He couldn't recall. The biting chill was certainly a little more intense than he would have liked, as a wolf built for warmer climates. Hallux had (probably rightly) stayed behind, her delicate form ill-suited to anything less than blistering heat and stifling humidity. As the cavernous maw of the darkened mines reared up before him, the svelte yearling opted to venture inside. It was eerily dark, with the steady drip of water from overhanging stalagmites punctuating the ambiance. His every step echoed along the stone walls, and suddenly he found himself wondering if he hadn't been so good at slinking about at all.

A faint flicker of light from somewhere below caught his keen eye, and the godling traipsed the well worn pathway deeper into the mineshafts. Tall ears perked to the sounds of life that typically accompanied a contained flame, the boy kept his head low and stride short as he crept ever closer. The tip of his dark banner twitched against his thigh, his own curiosity an insistent tug of strings at each wrist like the chords of a marionette. It was only when the silhouette of another wolf finally set itself in stark contrast to the low light of the flame that he paused. It was not a large wolf, at least not by his own standards. A male, by the scent. Older than him, as well. He was rifling through a pile of refuse that had likely sat there for aeons before now, undisturbed but for the occasional inquisitive rodent.

Tipping his crown curiously, and leaning to one side to peer around the male's mottled shoulder from a few feet away, he blinked owlishly at the mess that the stranger sorted through. "What are you looking for?" he questioned in typical soft tones, his stance lax and languid despite the circumstances.

"Pontifex" || "Hallux" || "others"

It wouldn't take long for him to find some usable pieces for crafting. To anyone else, he wouldn't admit he enjoyed the hobby, but it would pass the time. Carefully, his paws picked at the debris and sorted them into piles. Occasionally, he would add a piece of wood to his small fire to keep it from dwindling. Lost in thought about too many things to detail, he did pause for a moment when the scuffle of paws against stone echoed quietly. The sound was still a distance away but began to edge closer toward him. Unafraid of anyone that might approach, he continued his business. Soon, a masculine scent of another wolf filtered in through his twitching nose. Lifting his head from his sorting, he glanced over his shoulder with yellowed eyes at the stranger. Swathed in black and purple, he had to blink a few times. Strangely, this one resembled close to something like Modesty. Tilting his own head in some confusion, he gave it a shake to brush off the idea that she had come to find him. The soft and relaxed tones of the male were indeed not her, but he couldn't ignore the resemblance. It would be a question for a different time. "I'm looking for broken pottery or anything of worth to use in crafting," Gil responded in his own deep baritone of a rumble. Turning his face back over to his pile, he continued to sort and dig gently through the remnants of things that had once been. "You are welcome to join if you'd like," he added on as one ear lilted back toward the stranger. The guy seemed friendly enough and two wolves made for easier work than one.