Die With A Smile

Illusion’s paws struck the dusty ground with a muted thud as she wandered through the winding paths of the gorge. The once mighty river had long since dried to a mere whisper of history, leaving behind a tangled web of passageways and caverns carved deep into the cliff sides and cave ceiling. Her bright white-silver eyes flicked from shadow to shadow, tracing the jagged lines of ancient stone that now stood as remnants of time’s relentless march. Frustration simmered beneath her calm, poised exterior—an expressionless mask hiding her growing need for entertainment.

She had ventured here seeking something—anything—to break the monotony gnawing at her mind. The gorge, with its twisting corridors and forgotten crevices, had initially promised intrigue. Hidden treasures, secret paths, and even danger were said to lurk within these walls, but thus far, all she had encountered was the hollow sound of her own footsteps echoing in the empty, lifeless caves.

Illu paused at the mouth of one such cave, its entrance shadowed in the waning light of the setting sun. She could smell the faint musk of wolverines lingering in the air, along with the metallic scent of iron-rich soil—a sign that this particular cavern might lead to nothing more than a predator’s den. The prospect of encountering one of those brutes briefly piqued her interest, her eyes narrowing as she weighed the risks. But a battle, while thrilling, might ruin her immaculate coat. No, she had no interest in crude scuffles today, only something that might scratch her itch for stimulation.

With a huff, she continued onward, slipping into the labyrinthine depths. The golden flecks across her shoulders shimmered faintly in the low light as she wove gracefully through the rock-strewn paths. She followed one tunnel that twisted and dipped, curving back on itself as if mocking her aimless wandering. Frustration began to bubble closer to the surface, her carefully constructed calm starting to fracture. Every dead end, every pointless turn felt like a personal slight. This maze was supposed to be a playground, but instead, it was nothing more than a dusty tomb. Even the darkness she used to enjoy as a pup, meant nothing to her now.

Patience, she reminded herself, though the word felt hollow. Hollow like her smiles and her nice words. Still, even patience had its limits, and hers was wearing thin. What she craved was something—or someone—to toy with. A creature foolish enough to be caught in her web, a hidden secret waiting to be unearthed, or perhaps some ancient relic she could claim as her own. Anything that could break the stifling silence and bring a thrill to her otherwise dull day.

She halted before another darkened entrance, this one gaping wide, its shadows stretching out like welcoming arms. The scent here was different—older, untouched by the recent presence of any living creature. This passage seemed deeper, quieter, as though it guarded secrets buried long ago. Her pulse quickened as she stepped inside, the silence amplifying the soft click of her claws against the stone. Lovely. Maybe she’d be assaulted by some fearsome creature here.

The air grew cooler as she descended, and the walls narrowed until the space felt more like a forgotten tomb than a passage. Illu’s eyes gleamed with curiosity as she pushed further in. Perhaps, she mused with a devilish smile, this place held something worthy of her attention. Gods willing.

The deeper she went, the more she reveled in the isolation, her mind sparking with thoughts of what she might find—might ensnare—in these winding depths. The darkness did little to sway her, for she could not feel fear. She instead, began to softly pray for some sort of absolution, some soul to set her aflame.


"Illusion Nightwing"