Up until now, the warm air of this unexplored continent had been viscous and unpleasant, a miserable inevitability of a climate in possession of an overabundance of both heat and humidity. Marika may not have minded initially and could have possibly managed her trek with a measure of grace, had the humidity been her sole discomfort, but naturally such conditions tended to invite other annoyances, including the most useless of nature’s creations. Her travels today had been made interminable by their buzzing presence, their dark bodies hoarding around her tear ducts and the corners of her mouth no matter how often she tossed her head to be rid of them. Had she not come so far already, she would have turned back.

As it was, the pale huntress had hastened her stride to the mountain hollow and discarded the large leaves that had draped across her back and haunches, while dropping the one she held in her mouth to favor an unproductive snarl at the flies that were already retreating from the cooled, shaded environment. It was a moment that lacked rationality, an indulgence of her ire at their unwelcomed company, heightened by the pain that she now felt viscerally at having traveled miles in the summers daylight, with only elephant leaves for protection. Her sensitive skin had not been made for such a journey—she would have been wiser to travel at night, although that timeframe presented its own unique dangers of course. This consequence, in her mind, had been the lesser of two evils.

A rush of regret bubbled in her chest as she picked her way on blistered paws to the edge of the cave, and in a pretense of being cautious, turned to face the entrance of the caverns before exhaustion came to sweep the motivation from her, and she slid onto her belly with a long sigh.

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It was getting to be that time of year again, indeed. The days stretched out ever longer as the sun shone ever hotter while, the air grew paradoxically heavier with a thick moisture materializing from only Mother knew where. As summer burned across the land, the gloomy shelter of the sprawling labyrinth beneath the mountains seemed more and more luxurious by the day.

Of course, the Savante was inclined to believe that the earth's embrace was always the superior option, regardless of whether the outside world was afflicted with the most terrible weather or blessed with the most beautiful.

He imagines the ivory lioness currently stumbling her way into the cave shares his opinion, if the pale translucency of her skin was anything to go by. Her 'condition' is one he's seen before.

The woman doesn't seem to notice the dappled ghoul's presence, half-shrouded in shadow as he is. His colossal frame lies neatly against the cool stone of the cavern wall, copper eyes faintly gleaming in the hint of sunlight spilling in from the entrance, revealing his wakefulness though his breaths are deep and steady. Patient.

Now that Mircea has recaptured some semblance of normalcy (new and tender though it is, to have given name to the bond forged between Cáelfind and himself), practical wisdom had suggested that he take advantage of the green world outside to replace the herb stashes that has withered away in his absence. Wisdom also suggested that he waited for the sun to drop lower in the sky before he exposed his inky coat to it yet again.

@Marika may very well be in need of such sage wisdom herself, but when Mircea eventually decides to break the lengthening silence, his words opt for something...a little more relevant. "There are salves capable of both lessening the sun's anger and soothing its burns." He rumbles unceremoniously, shifting to raise his massive skull higher as he observes her. "Perhaps you would like to learn of them?"

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She had thought herself alone. Born of both inexperience and exhaustion, Marika had assumed the only visitors would emerge from the entrance and not already be laying in wait within the cool confines of the labyrinth. Her precursory glance into the shadows had not been thorough, and her pretense at caution had left her foolishly with her back to the tunnels. Now, her only awareness was of the earthen gloom and the steady temperate chill of the restoring environs, which were deeply soothing against her sun-licked skin. Her mind had already begun to fog with sleepiness when the strangers voice emerged from behind her, seeming almost to rumble from the heart of the mountain.

Tension heaved beneath her luminescent hide as she turned her head over her shoulder to locate the stranger, surprise clearing the haze from her thoughts. Rose-petal hues found his colossal figure half-draped in shadows only a few lengths deeper into the tunnels than she had managed, his head lifted and considering her with copper eyes that seemed to catch what residual light succeeded to slip into the labyrinth. Marika gave his presence only a breath of consideration before his words, kind as they were, directed her attention back to the blisters on her paws. She winced without thought for confirming any vulnerability before the strange man and tilted her forepaws to the side in a tentative assessment. “Oh, yes…” Her confirmation fell with defeat from her tongue, before she turned an imploring expression back to the stranger. “Any chance you know of something that can be found nearby?” A wry hope colored her soprano, her thoughts only now drifting to the possibility that his assumed sympathy could be taken in any other way than face value. But the woman would hope for the best; if this man was willing to assist, even if only to provide a point of guidance, she would take it.

@Mircea

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Only belatedly does the Savante think about the foreboding image his dark form must paint in the eyes of the young woman. A gargoyle half-cloaked in shadow. He sees how tension subtly grips the ivory curve of her spine once he speaks, though he offers no sign of having noticed it, his honeyed gaze staring impassively back into her startled eyes without faltering. It had not been his intention to hide from anyone or anything other than the oppressive summer heat, after all. The woman may also find it wise to be more attentive to her surroundings...but such criticisms are likely best kept to himself. For now.

As he awaits an answer to the offer that had all too easily escaped his lips, his attention follows her gaze to where she tentatively flexes blistered paws. It is difficult to make out their exact condition from where he lies in the half-light, but the brightness of inflammation is recognizable even in shadow. He huffs lightly when @Marika finally speaks her begrudging acceptance, but he dips his massive skull affirmatively as he slowly drags himself to his feet. "These tunnels provide many useful gifts, if one knows where to look. Frankincense and wormwood flowers amongst them."

He would take a few steps closer to peer appraisingly at cracked paws, noting how painful they looked to walk upon. "Some can be found in the cavern beyond that tunnel, growing near a small pool of water. I can retrieve them for you, if you'll allow me a moment." Sunburned feet aside, it might be too much to ask a complete stranger to follow him down a dark alleyway, even if the back-and-forth took a little more time.

Fortunately, he much prefers staying busy to lying stagnant in the shade. Perhaps that was all it took to inspire him to offer aid to someone he'd barely even met.

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Her thoughts had already been drifting towards caution, but she felt apprehension grow as the giant climbed to his feet, his silhouette somehow taking up more space in the caverns than she had anticipated. And yet, his movements were slow, and Marika wondered if that was intentional, or perhaps a consequence of his bulk, but she was glad for it nonetheless. “This climate is a gift already; it seems to be the only tolerable place on the continent.” There was a bitter edge to her otherwise light-hearted tone, a partially obscured vexation spawned from the hostility she faced to get here, and the reflection she felt it had on her. Marika eyed the lion as he approached, noting his dark coat and plush mane; maybe he felt the same, perhaps that is why they found themselves as companions in this damp, subterranean place.

When she sensed his honeyed eyes drifting across her paws, she spreads her toes for the benefit of his visibility in the dim lighting of the cavern, fighting against the shame that tightened her throat at their scalded and blistered condition. But his voice summons her attention and she tilted her head up towards him for a moment until his rumbled mention of a pool sends her gaze to the swathed and shadowy backdrop, her ears brought forward to attention atop her crown. “May I accompany you? If it’s not too far, I can certainly manage.” Marika was already lifting herself to her feet as she spoke, clenching her jaw against the pain that was radiating from her paws and sunburned skin. Once standing normally, albeit a bit bowlegged in an effort to keep the weight off the worst blisters, she would turn her face back towards the kind stranger and smile, hopeful he would be amenable to her proposition.

@Mircea

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The pale woman's sharp-edged words elicit a low hum from the beast as he draws nearer, deep baritone tinged with understanding - or was that a note of amusement? "Indeed. The summers out there can be unforgiving." On sweltering days like these, the Savante found himself ever more appreciative of the blessed shelter the Hollow's halls provided. "But also...unpredictable." A corner of his dark lip twitches slightly, a memory from not so long ago evoking a single huff of a chuckle. "Had you arrived last year, you'd have been welcomed with snowfall." The last summer had brought so many odd, though harmless, occurrences with it...Mircea is undecided about being thankful or disappointed by the apparent return of normalcy.

Although the sun-ravaged pads splayed before his copper gaze is clearly in no condition to be walked upon, something in his words seemed to capture @Marika's interest strongly enough for her to risk pushing cracked skin to its limits. He watches her clamber to her feet with a clear air of dubiousness, a brow arching as he takes in her less-than-graceful posture. But ultimately, he holds his tongue. "...If you wish." It was not worth arguing - there were few injuries that could sway a determined stubbornly set upon a goal.

Ask him how he knows.

For the pale woman's sake, the dappled beast would traverse the passages at a slower pace, dipping his skull to point out the pool he'd spoken of, once the still waters came into view. As he'd said, it'd not been far away at all. "What brings you to Amaryllis?" He rumbled idly as he began plucking out a few of the plants that grew clustered pond's edge, setting a small pile of white and yellow-flowering stems upon a flat stone. He would watch her from the corner of his eye, though his attention did not appear to waver from his work, a massive paw dipping into cloudy water to mix a wet clay out of the scraps loose soil spilling from the stony cracks.

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For a moment their thoughts were aligned in the relentless heat of this continents summer season, but then there was a subtle shift in his façade – a tremble in the corner of his mouth, a huff escaping in the quiet between them – and he revealed to the woman that this time last year, there had been snow. It was an unexpected disclosure, and for a moment, the heat-scorched lioness did not know what to make of it, so she simply stared up at the giant, her head tilted with a frown curving her lips and brows furrowed together over her assessing eyes. In that long moment, she was torn between taking him at face-value (why would he lie about something so silly?) and believing his words to be a joke (she was the youngest of twelve, she was no stranger to pranks). Ultimately, the woman could not make up her mind, but the silence had grown too long to be comfortable. “A shame I was late then. Better snow than this.” She remarked with a flick of her tail, her gaze falling back to the opening of the caverns.

But relief slipped through the woman when the giant accepted her request to accompany him through the tunnels and to the pool he had mentioned earlier. There was a cloud of doubt that seemed to escort his words, which she decided to ignore, and instead her smile widened with unspoken gratitude as she began forward alongside him, her steps mincing and unbalanced. Fortunately, their destination was not far – just as the giant had implied earlier (perhaps he hadn’t been kidding about the snow?). The cavern pool’s unreflective surface was barely distinguishable from the stone floor, but the scent of moisture drew her its side easily and as the giant began his project, she would dip her muzzle into its depths with an avaricious gulp. Her eyes closed in bliss as the water soothed the dryness in her throat - stirred silt doing nothing to lessen her experience - and she pulled herself upright only after his question summoned her attention back to him.

Settling back on her haunches, her eyes followed the movements of his paws, tracking the herbs he gathered and avoiding any gaze he might level her way. “Well, technically, a bridge of very, very hot sand brought me here,” Feeling somehow refreshed from her drink, she followed her playful retort with quick grin aimed at the dark lion, a quiet curiosity ruminating behind her rose-petal hues as she measured how he might receive such humor. But while she was young, she was not completely naïve and she promptly followed her quip with a real answer lest he be the type whose patience was not to be tested, and her gaze fell away from him once more. “My discovery was accidental, really. I saw the mountains across the sea and wanted to see if I could reach them.” She paused to glance down the corridor– she had reached the mountains, in a sense. Her focus returned to the lion, watching only his paws. “You’re a native to these lands I’m guessing?”

@Mircea | this got long, sorry!

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The beast's private bubble of amusement does not pop, even when his tale of summer snow prompts the pale woman to look at him like he'd just grown a second head. Perhaps she thought him insane? A liar? Both? Mircea is unbothered either way. He has no doubt that he's been accused of being far worse things, even if some insults were left unspoken. For isn't the truth always worse? "A shame, indeed." Maybe he should regale her with the story of the undying donkey next?

@Marika's steps are noticeably less-than-graceful when she hobbles through the dim passageways at his side, though he does her the courtesy of not commenting on it aloud. She didn't seem liable to collapse at least, leaving him free to focus upon his work while she settled at the pool's edge. A different man might have raised an eyebrow at her willingness to overlook the undoubtedly earthy taste of the stagnant water, but the Savante barely bats an eye. The woman was hardly the only feline in this room to have swallowed dirt at one point or another. A little taste here and there wouldn't hurt anybody.

Her playful non-answer draws a low huff from the male, copper wryly flicking away from the herbs he was pressing to regard her cheerful grin. "Ah. My mistake." Dark paws grow damp as he begins mixing the extracted anti-inflammatory oils in with the clay binder. "I assumed you swam." His retort is dry, but good-natured, one corner of his mouth lifting upwards with sarcasm. Then again, in her current state, it was entirely possible that the albino might think that the ludicrous feat sounded preferable to the passage's burning sand.

At least it explained how she'd managed to scorch her paws.

The jest is not all she has to offer him, however, and he hums as she continues, his massive paws working to churn the salve together. So the very mountains above their heads had been her goal - albeit a whimsical one. "And you did." He concludes neutrally, an ear flicking towards the question she poses to him. "No - not a native. I've just had time to get used to the place. My family and I crossed the sand bridge several years ago." The Savante's native lands...are lost to them now. But they had survived. Rebuilt. He wouldn't dare to hope for anything more than that.

"May I see your paws?" He asks suddenly, deeming the mixture at his feet to be suitable for application. A rough scraping noise would echo through the caver as he moved to drag the rock he'd been using as a table closer to the woman's side, turning expectant copper eyes towards her sun-burned appendages.

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