the air no longer crackled, no longer laden with an earthy aroma. It felt clean as it spilled in from the moon-door. The beast elected the hour to be lost within the day, by the singsong warbling above, it was clear twilight had not yet touched amaryllis. A truth vague and of little consequence. The wind danced across the yawning mouth, casting whispers into the darkness cloaked about a vain figure. Hours sank beneath the surface of consciousness, lost to the trickling against cave walls and the rare skittering of rodent and passersby lovers. Ardent whispers, and heated exchanges: they dropped into the well with their own signature chaos. Erupting intrigue greater than annoyance; he was but a gargoyle having claimed a stoop. He was reclined, eyes silencing their faults; with his weight held in a postured sit. His chin lifted at the falling of steps against the cavern’s floors; though made no motion to stand nor greet. His withering eyes catching no face, nor stare. Their volatile surface glossy and held to the moon-door; all the while his remaining senses supped on the casual noise that echoed against oblivion.

_{OOC: @Gemma}

There was little that Gemma had truly found of this land thus far but it did seem to have a lot more than their old. A lot more greenery in the parts that she had explored than that of her old home. That desert-y and sand bitten area that they'd lived in for so long was quite in the past and she was eager to find a place that was a lot more refreshing. Maybe even easier for her to breathe at night and had a better view. Even still, she couldn't help but gravitate towards the places that she had been familiar with which happened to be the cavernous area within the middle of their new home.

Paws swept forward with ease as she took a gaze around the walls that encompassed her before she was emptied out into a large chasm. Stalagmites reaching down towards the ground and threatening to drop upon those unfortunate while Gemma simply admired the dripping sounds that were down more tunnels than she could from where she stood. They echoed across the walls and and fled through the open exits and entrances. Certainly a place that she hadn't ever seen before and potentially a place that she and her friends could stay for a night or two.

_{© LARS}

@Mordiern

Yearning—starved of grace, of tranquility. Symphonies of triteness clamoured in waves, choral banality that swelled and ebbed.

It kindled life into the grim corridors, purling for it the rhythmic inhale and exhale. Haphazardly stitched lungs, that consumed not air, but enigmas, secrets both glib and mawkishly uncomplicated. And there, at her heart, he filled himself on it. Breathing in their whispers and confidences, peeling loose truths not meant for him nor his siphoning examinations. Their taste hung in the dank air, not stagnant but instead flavoured by what wafted loose from the above. She wore it as pinafore, garmented in something beyond the caverns and finnicky truths of politics. His face turned towards her approach; catching naught of her as she approached.

The vapours came twofold; one of spun moonlight and the other like shadow imbued to flesh, the only generosity of form coming from what bled down from the moon door. The gargoyle did not move, nor issued a sound to provoke her attentions. There came a trivial switch of his whiskers, his nose flaring to taste the flocking of pheromone and simplicity of her accents.

Careful, went his brogue, husky beneath the tinkering of the dark. The sound was a purr and came loose from his lips with a velvety heat. He felt himself leaning towards the stranger, eager for more; insatiable then, with only obscurities’ shackles for company. He knew not if this was her home, nor if there was familiarity of it in her consciousness. Fleeing the dark had not yet inspired a sense of expedition; instead, he held fast to the claustrophobia, held fast to fate that unfortunate souls would come to him, and not he to their webs.

@Gemma