for the jeers

The lingering undercurrents of brimstone clung to the dark edifices of the cavern, blocking out everything that might have offered a distraction from his brooding. The cosmic goliath lumbered through the darkness, a orphaned cryptborn with no home to speak of. His kin scattered to the wind, their father no more than ashes on the breeze somewhere in the north. So the violet hued giant wandered, a scowl becoming slowly imprinted into the very marrow of his cranium with each passing day.

Winter had come to claim the landscape of Boreas, and so he was in his element. Thick fur and imposing bulk built for navigating blizzards and tundra. As the light of the entrance faded, the puffs of mist from his breath grew fainter as the air warmed. Somewhere beneath this cavern was some type of heat source, likely molten rock- this was awfully close to the volcano, after all. The sulphurous aroma of the place betrayed its origins.

The spurs on his shoulder scraped against a column of stone, reverberating through his foreleg and shoulder with a jolt that forced a low growl from him. Pale gold eyes flicked instinctively to his left, though he couldn't have seen it if he tried. It was pitch black by now, and he was slowed to barely an ambling gait as he relied on the input from his whiskers and ears to tell him where to go. Once he bumped into enough stone pillars and got annoyed with it, he would turn around. For now it was just the eerie, familiar ambiance of a lightless cavern that accompanied his gradual progress into the heart of the pyroducts.