I'm Not The Fighting Type...

The plan had worked, the weakened spot Ricin had felt in his first passing gave away when the bear passed over it. He knew the area would be strong enough for them to pass over but the grizzly’s weight would be too much. A sheepish grin crosses his blue lips as the boy dips his head and says, “Yeah. Felt it when I was running the first time. Wasn’t any time to warn you but I know it would hold for us.” Another grin and he dips his head in greeting as he says, “Yeah I know my way around… kinda. Haven’t been here before but I kind of know to find things.”

With that Ricin moves to lead Mercury back toward the entrance of the cave, crimson eyes falling over to the side to look at the paintings that cover the walls. He slows, darting a glance back to taller wolf as he muses, “You know… it is amazing. The paint that must have been used to make these… it had to have been made of minerals to be able to withstand so many years…” Pausing a moment, he reaches out a white-dipped paw to lightly brush over a crude drawing of a deer as he says, “It seems to have stained the wall more than just paint the area… but the lines are too crisp be a natural stain…”


"Ricin Dauner"