Ræsa's heart pounded in her chest. She walked slowly, paws splashing through puddles on the shore of a what seems like another world. The roof of the cave above her let sunlight in only in streaks, and with it came a downpour of spring melt. Rainbows formed in the mist. The air had a damp, earthy scent to it that overpowered anything else. In lit patches grass and ferns had taken root, but the rest of the cave was covered in moss and algae, or simply sickened stone. Bodolf crept along behind her, in equal wonder. She nosed amongst a clump of fungi, but was unable to identify them. "What is this place?" Bo asked in a low rumble, barely audible over the deluge. Ræ turned to him and shrugged her massive shoulders. The caves seemed to stretch on for some ways, but she was content to huddle here and wait out the band of coyotes she'd provoked at a kill. Three or four she could handle, but once they'd called in reinforcements, well... she wasn't proud, but at least she'd gotten away. She doubted the mongrels would have the guts to follow her down here, and even if she did she could pick them off one by one as they struggled to find a way down. In the mean time she would rummage about, hoping they varmint would just give up the search. There must be something interesting here to find, be it herbs or frogs or something. Okay, so maybe she was just bored. Could you blame her? Sitting still had never been the pale fae's forté. Bodolf, on the other hand, found the driest rock her could and sat down with a flourish of his extraordinarily long tail. The clouded leopard was more than happy to sit and observe her explorations, as opposed to taking part in them directly. If she found anything interesting, he was certain she'd let him know. "Talk" "You" Think

Winter had finally broken into spring, and he wasn't dead. Pity for everyone else. The shadow seemed to cut through the brightness of the day with a renewed passion for... for something. For the destruction and doom of everything, but that wasn't ideal. For something else, after all. Poser is a force of nature, and a force of something much scarier. A force of things unchained, things that have come apart at the seams. He's coming apart, but don't let anyone tell you that. Don't let him tell you that. He's coming unhinged and it's beautiful. Everything about it is, honest. The west of Boreas. He hasn't been here yet, so may as well start somewhere. Water. Running water. The source of life, that and food. Cocaine chic, you can't tell him much about food. The skilled healer that he is, he pretends that he's fine. That's the first rule of staying healthy, denying that you're sick at all. Refusing to eat and staying strong, Poser moves toward water. Maybe there would be fish. He could eat fish without feeling glutinous, without being disgusted in himself. That, and he could find something to make a salve out of that would stop his bum foot from aching. All these ages after, it still ached. There's a girl there when he arrives. Far larger than he, but it's not like Poser cares. That's the thing that's brought the borzoi to life lately. The devil may care attitude... it's not new, but it's not reared its ugly head in quite a while. No. He leaps down, not bothering to deal with the careful picking around the slippery parts. A leap, a small splash, and the jarring that he knew would come in his bones. It's that which makes him feel alive, and what he finds at the bottom is breathtaking. A part of him no longer misses the castle that he's left behind on Auster. A part of him is absolutely and incredibly enchanted. "Fucking wonderland," the words come aloud, breathless, grinning, from the lips of the shadow. Bright and alive, he stretches and leans to lap at the cool running water. This. This is what he came for. your charged touch poser breathy way of saying my name

Ræsa hardly noticed the wraith slip into the cave, and while on momentary alert, decided at last to pay him as much mind as he was paying her. She kept an ear cocked in the strange creature's direction, but ultimately it was a wiry and somewhat pathetic creature. She was not overly concerned. He seemed as awestruck by the unusual landscape as she was, and she was not of a mind to give even a second of her time to a creature that was not actively trying to kill her. Damn coyotes, she groused to herself. From the other side of the cave, she heard the nigh-inaudible echo of, "Fucking wonderland." Her head lifted, ears swiveled. Her eyes found him among the shadows, focusing now instead of merely observing from her peripherals. She blinked. Bodolf rose off of his rock, uncertain where his friend's mind was or what she might be planning to do next. Ræsa waved him off with a flick of her tail. "Isn't it?" she mused back. It was a beautiful place, and deserved their respect. Still, this creature was fucking weird. She was looking forward to parlaying with him. Canine, most likely, but beyond that... She had not a clue. "The first place I've ever seen like it." She was curious to see if he would reply at all, let alone what it might say. Bodolf loped to her side, smacking her with his tail and lifting a brow. She could practically read it in his eyes. She rolled her eyes at him and flicked her tail. She was just curious, he could calm down. It wouldn't be worth her time to trounce the thing, besides he seemed odd. Possibly worth a good time, but only time would tell. She took a few steps forward, still leaving ample space between them, (Really just far enough to brush her tail completely over the clouded leopards face.) The feline sneezed and glowered. Ræsa just cocked her head, waiting to see if the queer creature might reply. "Talk" "You" Think

Poser was rather enjoying the place, the way the water flowed beneath and the latticework of trees and roots came together. An ecological anomaly, but he wouldn't bother with the big words... especially the ones he couldn't really properly formulate in the common tongue. That common... ech. It was hard sometimes. He was working on his grasp of the language, he was trying to put himself in a position where things were... better. Language. Meeting people. Brilliant sapphire eyes fall on the pale girl, and his tail wags. Fucking weird was right. He rather liked that bit about himself, made things more unique. Made things better. Right? Supposedly. Always supposedly, in his mind. Poser's mind, you see, is a rather strange place. Still, his tail wags at the stranger, gaze bright, even. She was friendly, he was friendly. Light on his feet (light in the loafers? That too.) and brilliant as he leaps from one flat rock to another. "We aught to explore it," wolfish is his grin, Russian accent coloring the words as brilliantly as they spill forth from his lips. So absolutely lovely. "That is, if you'd like to come with me." There's something earnest about Poser, in these moments. Childlike excitement is the first thing that comes to mind. He loves new places, he loves new people. He loves everything, at least... on days like this. On his good days. Good days are the best days. your charged touch poser breathy way of saying my name