I Still Hold On

Although she should have heeded the strange whistling winds as a warning, Makara was too fascinated by the stone spires to allow terror to befall her. She'd been hunkered down here since the tremors had subsided, deciding this was as good a place as any to make a new home base. There was simply too much to be discovered. Most others would see this place for the dangerous zone it was, but plenty seemed to have been drawn here by the allure of the vibrant red glow above. It was intoxicating. There was nothing like a strange unexplored area that got her blood moving as hot as this.

Warnings, tremors... she'd heed her own call to action: the pursuit of knowledge! Makara was digging away at the base of one spire, its soil loosely compacted. It was begging to be explored. She'd noticed the beginnings of carvings peeking above the ground from some of them and she had begun to systematically dig downwards where she could. Occasionally they were too worn away to make much sense, but others showed an unknown creature in clear distress. Its features were twisted in a true mask of terror. Makara sat back and studied one such carving, panting from the exertion of unearthing it. She'd created quite a dust cloud, and she sat in a hole almost up to her shoulders. "Hmmm, I must compare it to the others..." Makara murmured, scrambling out of the pit she'd dug. Her eyes locked on to a white female a few yards away. "Hello!" she called brightly, a film of dust on the lenses of her goggles, "Have you seen these carvings yet?" Had she seen the face, twisted in terror? Oh, what could it mean?! If you could see her eyes behind the goggles, they were lit brightly with curiosity. Warning, shmarning. Terror? She hardly knew her.

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