It had been his first time, and at the beginning, he had been scared, watching with childish eyes as the world did something he'd never seen before in his life. Her kind, patient ways allowed him to settle, soon enough taking flight on his wings and soaring as high as he could, reaching out to touch them. Nothing was grasped in his talons but the air, and caught up in confusion that fed into anger, he screamed. Anger poured out from him like hot lava. The inner parts of her chest burned with some sort of longing for relief, watching the small Wyvern did nothing but rage at the lights.
He was young and would have to learn, but this isn't what she had wanted.
When she simply walked away, he took the cue and charged, diving downwards in a brutish fashion, claws ready to meet her hide. His screams alert her in enough time to duck. Wide eyes and heavy chest tear her at the seams. Why this? He swings around once more and claws at her mane, ripping at the dark locks as if he could destroy her with the removal of them. Winces decorate her face as he plays out his tantrum and takes all of it out on her.
By the time they make the caves, Hobgoblin carries a lock of her tail in his jaws, dual toned and coarse, smiling in a pleased way at his efforts. Sikeax makes no noise, silently pushing through soon-to-be knee-deep snow as snowflakes fall.
Later, the hair is abandoned to chase the snowflakes that she begins to wear as a cloak. If the snow wanted to swallow her up, then she couldn't complain. Her companion seemed to enjoy it enough.
The cave greets them with a still, emotionless face, unchanged with the years. Hobgoblin pays her no mind, choosing to leap upon his paws and exact something out of the world. All of this was still fresh to him, and while it was old news to her, something she'd seen enough of to paint a million paintings, it wasn't worth ruining his fun.
Light flickers over the walls and she steps in like an old queen returns to her abandoned throne, slow and nostalgic as if it would reverse time and place her back in the 'good ol' days.'
Upon entering, it becomes aware that she has invaded space, stepping into a land that wasn't her's for the time being. Someone else stood in the hole in the mountains, alone, seemingly caught up in their own issues. Her head turns to check on her brother, watching as he trots his way to her, sliding in embarrassment across the ice. A smile would commonly trickle over her face at the sight of such things, but wounded and defeated, she'd made no change of expression, decorated cold and heartless, tired and beaten, ready to give up in silence submission.
They're an oddly built thing(though she can't say much when she herself is built badly), distorted and morphed into something she's unsure will fit them in the later years or is just made from puberty. Youth had a disgusting way of ruining the outer beauty.
While it was rude to linger in doorways without speaking up, the use of her voice seemed unneeded and obsolete. She could easily step out and not have to come back, to ignore his presence altogether.
Hobgoblin lets out a long, mournful sounding howl to announce their presence, responded with a stern glare and annoyance smothering him in their bond. A growl erupts from him, and with bloodied hide, torn hair, and broken spirit, Sikeax makes no effort to defeat him.
She lost the day that she let him attack her, breaking at the knees and falling to the ground, succumbing to his mercy.

OOC: Sorry for the wait!
@[Ashamin]

Hobgoblin is an arctic wolf with antlers for this thread as of the time being.
"If you could hear me then, can you hear me now?"

Sikeax;

i'm missing the beauty in your soul