Now here was something interesting, tucked away like a little secret 8n the underneath.

And even more interesting, it didn't seem to be empty.

[Assassin Level 2: Fabricate pride scent]

The nephilim had brushed against cavern walls as he moved further into the darkness, rubbing the scent of this strange and hollow place deep into his fur and mane. Something about the place, a layer of grime or ash perhaps, clung to his pelt as well and darkened it a few shades. For good measure, he even sought out a few strands of fur that had been left by various residents, rolling in that as well before he felt his scent had a proper layer of the earthen must that saturated the area.

Now, he could get a proper look around provided no wandering eyes looked to closely at their newest 'member.

Faust kept his steps light as he wound his way down into the shadows, ears alert for anything that would be of interest or concern. Surely a pride lived here if all of the scents were to be believed, and they would know these twists and turns far better than he.

Maybe he should be feeling something more than what he was, the risks he was taking were clearly laid out of course. Injury, maiming, gruesome death. But it was not fear that the nephilim felt in his trespass, just simple curiosity.

What. Is. This?

KNEEL TO THE CROWN       The fact that the necklace was damaged was... distressing. He was caught as to what to do. He could take it off to inspect just how bad the injury to the sacred gift was, but then he might never get it back on. He'd be left carrying it around to keep it safe--he had no den to store it in at the moment, as he hadn't laid claim to any specific place in the Hollow. Having his mouth full of necklace would prevent him from talking or fighting. Of course, there was the option of calling Pistis to see if she could repair it. But... surely she was busy with her pregnancy. He didn't know much about pregnancy beyond the fact that it was how cubs were produced, so he assumed there was some mysterious element to it that all lionesses understood. Sigh.       The colossus strolled casually through the twists and turns of the Hollow. His steps were lazy and body language languid. There was no true direction or goal in mind for his wandering, just to keep moving so that he could think. There were several matters that weighed heavily on the young lion's shoulders, and he was beginning to feel the pressure of responsibility. To try to figure out the mess between the Casimir and the Crazies. To worry for Pistis' health, and the health of his unborn siblings. To grieve for the partial destruction of the necklace Pistis had gifted him. Not to mention the typical things for this stage of life, such as being a misunderstood teenager whom no one seems to respect or take seriously. Life was hard, man!       Pale gaze lifted to the form that shuffled down the tunnel before them. The darkness of this tunnel--one of the many tubes without a crack in the ceiling to allow in outside light--made it impossible to readily identify the lion based on visual features. Nose twitched to inhale scent and got the markers of the pride. This rang zero alarm bells, as it was an inevitability that Zagan would run into another pride member if he was wandering the halls. He wasn't sure who it was, but that didn't much matter if the scent was right. As he came to a wider section of the tunnel, he drifted to a stop. It was clear that he was still mostly absorbed in his thoughts.       "Find any food?" The words were spoken as normal--just one pride member to another. He thought he might've caught a whiff of the outside on the pridemate's pelt. Hopefully they'd been out hunting and had a snack to take the edge off the colossus' hunger. It'd be a good distraction, too. Legs a bit tired from the stroll, he sat easily with his right side against the wall. This would leave plenty of room for the pride member to pass him by, though he would be... disappointed, if they passed the prince without a greeting. 492 words | @Faust STAND IN THE SUN hail to the king

The approach of the younger male was met with about as much excitement as one finding a grey rock in a sea of slate ones, perhaps a bit of acknowledgement but nothing special. This was just another pride member after all! Just like him, another grey face against black stone.

The nephilim shook his head sadly, even indulging in a shrug as if to say 'what can you do?'

He was weighing his options carefully, how well this pride knew each other depended on how long he could go without speaking. It would be a risk to speak and be recognized as the outsider he was, but saying nothing would be just as damning. No, he was much too curious to play the silent one for very long. There was simply too much to learn while he was ahead.

"There's not a lot to be found," He kept his tone and accent neutral, but not aggressively so. And for flavor dropped some of his more usually formal verbage. "You know when the next real hunt is?"

Something to test the waters, a casual little chat about pride affairs.

@Zagan

He is healing well, though some wounds linger because of their more serious nature. They might even scar; both his wife and his daughter were doing all they could to prevent that. Enough that he no longer has to hide his limp until the end of the day. Thankfully it was early enough on that he wasn't hobbled. Granted, in some parts of the hollow, day was a subjective thing. Either way, he was up, hadn't been up for long, and would be okay for the most part.

As he meandered to the edges through a lightless tunnel he caught his son's scent, and that which of a stranger. Gwyn's lips downturned. Since when had this person joined? He smelled of the hollow but the brute did not recognize the personal scent. Pace quickens, confusion touching his feats before fading beneath his mask. He had told the others to let him know of any newbies they themselves invited.

So why hadn't he encountered this one?

Worried, suspicious, he arrives, a hulking shadow in the dark. "Not planning on any" he injects, eyes narrowed, the weight of his gaze felt even if not seen. Cutting off what might be his son's reply, but he does not want to reveal any information to the strange pridemember. If he was really one. Gwyn sidles around his boy, placing him slightly to the front and side of the youth. "Who invited you into my hallowed halls?" he queries, his voice sharp, demanding, wanting an answer. If he evaded or did not answer at all, Gwyn would attack. He had been more weary as of late considering all that happened.

Art and og code by Kairi, Code modified by Saph

@Faust @Zagan