Pieces of the puzzle began to slip into place. It made sense, but the drama of it all seemed unreal. Perhaps reality was like that; all dramatic and unbelievable, and somehow inescapably real. The thought was both terrifying and thrilling. Thr young wolf supposed that was life, though; much like sliding down a sleep hill with no way to stop. "I don't get that." She spoke of the other valhallan wolf. "What on earth would compel you to stay with the wolves who stole you?" Warja shook her head. She couldn't fathom the reasoning behind it. That wolf, whoever they were, wasn't just there s/he was a high ranking member. Warja shook her head again, dismissing the whole thing as something that was forever outside of her range of understanding.
Before them the tunnel opened up. Unlike a normal cave where water dripped and the air was forever chilly, Hell's River, even at their current distance, was warm, the air dry. Here, the cavern was dark, but nowhere near as dark as what lay behind them. A faint glow could be seen ahead and the air was filled with an odd rumbling sound.
Warja turned in the hopes of catching Kismet's reaction. The place was ominous and more than a little intimidating. She had no doubt he could handle it, none whatsoever, but she doubted he was immune to the foreboding presence that hovered almost tangibly over them. It was a mystifying, thoroughly intoxicating feeling and it made her feel very small. Warja had become accustom to the caverns, but she remained far from immune to the rush of adrenaline that came with visiting them.
