"...Of course!" She mumbled as a conclusion to her earlier speculations, to herself of course. There was no one else here. Not in these depths; so deep that echoes were reduced by the raw primitiveness of the caves, in their splendid glory —And of course the history that filled it up with it. There was simply no room left for echoes. That was how awesome the place was, that was how superior the world proved itself to be. Again and again, because — even though this place was filled up with the breaths of past events to this extend already — there would always be place for more... and more and more; Unlike the capacity of the awareness inside her own brain, it was limiteless. Mysterious. Everlasting.
And she would never get enough of it.
So she sat here... on her own: Gaping with excitement, like a child seeing magic for the first time, at the inscriptions in the wall. She sat there; by the candle-light, throwing shadows on the rocks, as she continued on to decipher the history of Helovia.
That was when the lights went out.
It happened suddenly, without warning; without a sound. As if there had been a switch she had known nothing off and as if someone that was not her had just pulled it (the trigger?). As she glared into the blackness (that had just been the inscription of the shadowy-creatures) that little side-thought made her think. She wasn't... dead now, was she? Because if she was, she had gone very, very subtly —And somehow none of her stories described Death as such a súbtle being.
So instead of panicking, she turned around, for perhaps she wasn't dead and someone really had turned off the lights. It was good that she knew this place well, as she had spent a lot of her free-time in these caves, although mostly staring at the wall of history (of course). Thanks to that she managed to navigate through the tunnels on mere memory and the sensing with her wings; pointing forward like a blind mans' cane.
As she slowly moved herself forward, both intrigued and confused by what was going on, she realized that the room wasn't silent, not at all. And it suddenly seemed to press on her; the sounds. If not for her breathing —if not for the shuffling of her wings, it were the cries in the distance of something she thought could have been from the bats taking-off. The sounds of other hooves, animals. Then Maren heard a voice. It came from a source closer than she had expected, or would've known if she hadn't been blinded —Or at least that was what it felt like. She found her way over, somehow, and as she did she realized she knew the answer of the question not specifically voiced to her. "I can tell you many have found this place before you, or me, ever entered here. Hello, by the way. Did you perhaps...," she said, told; informed (maybe)... and then asked, slightly uncertain, as she entered the room this other being was in. But Maren stayed close to the wall, feeling the rough rocky texture with her wings for orientation, knowing if she let go she might as well be falling into a black hole. She cleared her throat, suddenly feeling idiotic in this blinding embrace. "—...Did you turn off the lights?"
Notes: Hope you don't mind! Maren has turned blind here, due to a quest she is working on. (She will be blind for 3 days, this is her first day)
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