Winter was coming again, and this time he wondered if he would see the spring once more. Never before in his years had he contemplated it, but this time... this time he did. Not that he felt ill, or incapable. Still, age had a way of catching up with one, and his was steadily doing so with him.

Tobin roamed the tunnels, having nothing of great purpose to do at the moment, lost in thought. So lost, in fact, that he wasn't paying as much attention to his path as he ought to have been and almost walked into a wall. Yes, it was definitely that and not because his vision was slowly fading these days.

He scoffed quietly at himself, turning away and setting off down the tunnel properly. That could have been embarrassing.

Toblerone considered herself immune to the tide of the seasons. They were, like most things, beneath her. Also beneath her was the prospect of being awake and chipper. She had made a slothful effort at cleaning her den, taking out a peacock tail that had decided to molder rather than dry, and she got halfway out of the caverns before she decided... you know, this passage right here, the one that vent to the outside? It was blowing a good amount of warmth, probably had an opening at the top of the sunny mountain, and it felt a hell of a lot better than she imagined outside to feel right now. So she had just plopped herself down, half in and half out of the way in that accidentally-on-purpose mode, and waited to either fall asleep or bite the ankles of the next lion that came along.

Half slit eyes watched a darker shadow come along. She twitched her tuft. Bite or scare? Ah! But he paused and scoffed, and her entire body twitched in startlement. She tried to settle back down, slacking her front paws under her chest as though they had been loafed that way all along, but her long back fur was slow to settle. "Talking to yourself again?" she spoke almost calmly, almost off-handedly, though she was a bit put out and distracted. Had to distract from her distraction by distracting him with baseless accusations.

@Tobin

There would be someone around to watch him almost crash into a wall. At least they were both embarrassed, though neither of them seemed to know the other was.

"Get to be my age and you'll find you're the only one who reliably listens to you," he commented. A sad truth that. Lions typically fell into one of two camps. Either he was to be respected for his age and he had wisdom to share, or he was a crazy old man who didn't need to be listened to anymore and should just shut up. Luckily, the Hollow was seemingly filled with the former and not the latter, but he wouldn't have been surprised if someone had told him there were some within the pride who felt that way.

Pity that he didn't give her an immediate reaction, other than embarrassment. She wanted something to snap at or mock and the older male seemed almost perfect. Perhaps she'd have to work on him...

the pink female's gaze glazed over, pondering. dark thoughts with their own heavy satiation, like she could slip into a dark chocolate coma. her eyes were directed upon his face but not focused. only for a second, and then she returned to attention. alert, but not vivid.

She roughly shook out her head. The gesture was meant to shake away thoughts (or cobwebs). Her ears returned poised nobly forward. "Do the leaders not listen to you? They seemed so nice." She placed mild concern upon her visage like cotton candy spinning around a stick, all sugary and vaporous.

@Tobin

She was just a mass of pink in the darkness, his vision not being what it used to be. Sooner or later (sooner, at this point) he'd be navigating the Hollow just by memory and possibly scent, forced to stick to routine paths lest he get lost among the tunnels never to be seen again. She was a very big mass of pink, though. Probably bigger than he was. Impressive, to say the least.

"They do," he replied of her question regarding Roan and Faelyn. "Granted, I collect a great deal of information for them, so they are wise to." That was his sole purpose within the pride, and he did it well.

A younger Tobin might have suspected her, or seen through the mask, but he was old and tired. Not hard to pull the wool over his eyes, as it were. Probably not a good trait in one who gathered information, but maybe he'd earned the right.

@Toblerone