Having been holed up in a hospital den for weeks on end had made it difficult for Widow to keep a grasp of time. What she did know, however, that it must be well into fall and that the storm happening outside was very much late.

Water poured into the gorge and puddled on the ground in various areas, creating small perfectly splashable puddles if there wasn't a waterfall of rain pouring into them. It made the floor very wet and slippery, perhaps even dangerous to those that weren't paying attention. Widow found herself sitting underneath an overhang, protecting herself from the rain while watching it at the same time. It had been a while since she had seen any sort of weather, so watching the rain brought a smile to her face.

"Speech!"

Code © Skelle/Witchdogtor DO NOT USE WITHOUT PERMISSION

As the rain drummed against the entrance of the den, Cadaver's gaze flickered to his mother. Her still recovering figure was nestled beneath an overhang, a small smile playing on her lips as she watched the cascading droplets outside. Her having kept her distance with Terror while being ill had been a difficult truth for him to accept. Even still, he felt a pang of irritation at her contentment; it seemed that even in the middle of a storm, she could find solace.

"Watching water fall from the sky," he started, his voice reverberating within the confined space. His split-colored appearance gleamed under the dim lighting, the stark contrast making him appear even more intimidating than usual. "Doesn't seem like the most productive use of time, does it?" His dark half stared at her with critical eyes, the golden design flickering beneath his fur catching in the low light of the den.

"Cadaver Nightwing"

Sitting underneath the overhang that shielded her from the rain was comfortable and she enjoyed it. Perhaps soaking herself in the pouring water wasn't a good idea, though she could hear in her sons voice as he spoke that wasn't considered. She only smiled though, her silver gaze turning to mean his and sighing softly.

"Perhaps not, what do you suggest I do with my time then?" She asked, genuinely curious and using it as somewhat of a test. There was no right or wrong answer, though, but she expected him to be critical and perhaps even harsh. She could understand if he was upset about her being gone, and she was suspecting that he was holding it against her and assumed that it would influence his answer.

"Speech!"

Code © Skelle/Witchdogtor DO NOT USE WITHOUT PERMISSION

A low growl resonated in Cadaver's chest at Widow's question. He studied her with a calculating gaze, his dual-colored eyes flicking restlessly between her own silver ones. The disinterest, the passivity he thought he heard in her voice stirred something in him: the compulsion to assert himself. Could he really even hear it in the first place? "Perhaps," he began, “You should be preparing. Training yourself to be stronger.” he suggested, a darkened smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Or better yet, taking a more active role in leading instead of hiding in here." His voice echoing in the enclosed space. In his mind there could be no time for reprieve. Only drive. Only forward momentum. And it seemed to him, his mother had a lot of ground to make up.

"Cadaver Nightwing"