In wonder Sindre gazed up at the dirt ceiling. Above her was an endless tangle of roots and moss. It was a strange sight. She'd been in caves before, but this was different. Usually there were rock formations and whatnot; impossible-looking pillars that rose from the ground or reached down from a rock ceiling. This though? This was baffling and strange. Were the roots what was holding everything up? There was very little rock as far as she could tell. Regardless, it was neat. Her gaze left the ceiling and, eager to see what other oddities this cave held, Sindre took off down the tunnel. Her pace was fast and fearless; there was much to see and she had no time for spooks and nervousness. The path ahead suddenly opened up and in awe Sindre slid to a halt. There was a river! She crept closer to investigate. It was like an entirely different world down here. Unlike the serious, stony caves she'd explored before, this one was alive with life; plants hung from the ceiling and the pools bubbled and trickled, the small sounds echoing pleasantly off the walls. There was only one word for this place: magical. "Talk" "You" Think

Light, day, sun, even the moon holds no sway or meaning in a place where time stands still until you exit. Rebirth was the incubus first thought as the sun warmed his face. Curiosity commands his actions; What is just ahead, just around that boulder, how far does this go? beckons him into the unknown void. The hellion gazes back back the way he came trying to burn the image of his salvation in his scholar mind. It was silent in here. It foreshadows his future home once his soul leaves this frail body. He laid here upon ageless stone listening to the growing formations. The anxiety ends when a new part of the cavern was discovered, one where the sun illuminated the formation, able to witness the miracles surrounding it. The only things that softens the anxiety are the roots spread across the ceiling and the moss, freezing cold and wet as it is. He thanks the Gods for this reiver that seems to pass through, these plants, a small reprieve in this forsaken place. He watched in awe as the underwater river follows its course as it stands like a cobra. It lies across the underland in smooth seductive curves, cool and innocuous; he could swear that never in his life he has seen anything like it. The poetry of the earth is never dead. deep baritones resonated through his whole being, his chest rose and fell with each breath he took, filling his lungs with the wildness. To his master comment Ramses, who was still surrounding the incubus shoulders, resting his cranium on top of his could only nod, abrely recognisable. For sure who were to observe them may mistake him for a creature of fairytales, with two heads or four eyes but he was to at peace with himself to notice anyone else, unaware of any other presence and halfly ignoring his companion as well. words of a god "words of ramses"

An insatiable need to explore spurred Sindre onward. She trotted through the inky shadows with naive bravado and soon stood on the edge of the river. The water below was surprisingly clear; as dark as her surroundings were, Sindre could still make out the shapes of rocks on the bottom. Even though she didn't have a good reason for it, she'd expected the water to be murky. For several moments she stood there and scrutinized the water in the hopes of spying fish or something. How anything could live down here was beyond her, but it didn't hurt to look, did it? Plenty of critters lived underground. Worms and other lesser creatures spent the vast majority of their time below the surface instead of walking on it, so the idea of fish living in the dark wasn't too outlandish. If there are any fish down here, they're good at hiding, Sindre decided. If there had been any she'd have felt obligated to catch one, so perhaps this was for the best. She could keep exploring. A voice somewhere off to the side drew her attention away from the water. Sindre straightened and listened; her eyes and ears straining as she tried to make sense of the shadows around her. The voice was deep and masculine, and the words, coming to her out of the darkness with no context, were a bit creepy. "Hello?" "Talk" "You" Think

There was always something off about the Luciverian King that not many could put their finger on in the first couple of attempts. He was unnatural and eerie, exotic, out of the place more times than he could count. Though, this was naturally looked at in several different ways, for once there was his unnatural, voluptous fur that hang down in tendrils like waves towards the ground, curves stretching forever, offering him the appeareance of a lion than a wolf. And of course, there was always the realgar glow surrouding his fur, the evidence of the Gods icor that was supposedly flowing through his veins, the evidence of his Legacy in Heavens, his true home. The glow was like his own sunset, evergrowing, pulsating and illuminating every corner he dared to move into as shadows and darkness held no power against this Sun God. Not all would fear him as though he liked to think they should, and not all would look to him for the answers he so perfectly knew the answer to. That was fine, he would not blame them for their skepticism, mortals seem to have known nothing of their kin for generations and that, in his plan, was normal. This was no Egypt after all but they will open their wings and share their viws on this land as well and maybe at some point even conquer it as their own. In his head he could hear the voices of everyone around him. He knew about his mothers. His father. He knew the voices talking to him were them asking him to relent to stop his conquering plan and live a life of peace and quiet. But, in his own way he was carrying out a mission that they had put him on. It was his own form of rebellion--carried onto his shoulders until so long after his parents had been dead. He was only doing this for them...for their legacy. Survival of the fittest was a dangerous game to play but damn it all if he was not going to at least try. The Luciferian King found himself some company if it weren't for the sweet aroma invading his nostrils, a female nonetheless judging by the scent; collosal pads carrying him towards the source and in his mind the other was already away of his presence as vocals could be heard over the dulcet silence. Good day, my lady. deep baritones coated in thick egyptian accent escaped his jowls, coral, plush tongue roaming over his ink black lips, What brings you here today? words of a god "words of ramses"

She relaxed a bit as a polite, accented voice responded. The man was still out of sight, so she stepped closer, carefully following the voice to its origin. His form rose out of the shadows, tall, strong and honey-hued. They were of similar height, but their builds couldn't have been more different. The man was slender, nearly razor thin, and in sharp contrast to her more robust frame. "Indeed it is a good day," she said brightly. She'd had a bit of an adventure, found this neat place, and now she had someone to talk to. Not a bad day indeed. "Curiosity, my good man," she said friskily. "It's an interesting place. I couldn't resist the adventure." Perhaps he felt similarly? Why else would a man be way down here in the dark? "How about you? What brings you to this weird and wonderful underground haven, eh?" "Talk" "You" Think