A cold wind blew sharply in through the valley of the Basin, shivering the pines as it passed through their needles and rattling the stones upon the mountainside. An ill taste upon its bitter edge foretold of its beginnings up from the north, and the hell it would descend upon this land soon enough. For eons the land had felt its warning and weathered its threats made real, but it nourished those within this vale, protecting them. Now though, to him, they seemed to be the ones sending the sharp blades of cold digging into his flesh. With pinned ears, leveled head, and a quick, hot step the crowned golden lord of the north slid through the cracks of the Basin’s walls. A storm brewing in the shadows, and barely contained under the surface.

In stark contrast, a dark stag moves through the light. His usual easy gait a bit more jaunted and tense. Haldir would glance to the dark rocks now and then to see a flash of gold, but it did not ease his tension. How many days had it been building like this again? The dark deer snorted, and took a moments rest to paw a few last living sprigs of grass. His mind flips through scenes. The day of the herd meeting, and the storm in the cave. The return from battles, and their being more tense their leaving. The hours pacing the rock walls, and looking out. The long and tireless nights, where when the deer woke, the gold still stood unrested. At first the stag had not seen much change. But like a festering wound it was growing worse. Each passing day spent in these walls built a massive weight upon the golden’s chest, and it translated to his bonded. So as the stag moves off to keep up with the gold, it was with tense steps.

When the gold had come to healer’s cave he rose sharply up a small path, no more than a deer trail. The dark stag had drifted to it as well, and following along at a distance he rose up the side of mountain with the storming gold. Today it was much worse than before though, so the stag stayed wary of getting to close. He bore a bruise on his hip where he had been knocked aside on the night before for getting in the way. It was always building and building until they slipped off randomly through the Arch. Then the gold would sleep. He would eat. And he was himself again. But the Basin would always call him back, something that needed doing here or there, or just the task of prowling around its boundaries like the wolf he was. Then it would grow again. And each time it bloomed worse, darker, and more dangerous.

The gold slipped in the cave first and from outside the dark stag heard the slinging off of the wolf clock and satchel. What should have been slamming hooves on rock was silent as always, but the deer could see it. He could feel the tremors in his own legs of the vibrating stone. Slowly he came to the entrance, and peered his large pale eyes into the dark corners. The crowned lord stood towards the back pacing as usual.

It felt so close, so heavy. Gods why couldn’t he move around in here. His lungs filled with stale air, like a slow suffocation. Snorting and tossing his head the crowned golden paces, but every step causes his limbs to burn all the more for more. To buck it off, to kick it out. Anything. Earth eyes flash to the opening of the cavern, wild with thought. He could go, and leave. A short rough sharp call broke the thought. He had been gone a week only days before. He couldn’t go. He was trapped here. He had to- A cloven hoof kicks an item, and he jerks and shouts with irritation at the interruption. It sidled across the floor clambering mutedly. Harks pin sharply back and eyes narrow roughly. What was this item? He did not remember it.

In the dim light short brushed black and white fur trimmed, and sharp teeth glinting. The hairs upon his back bristle, and prick. This thing he remembered well. This thing was a stolen piece. A prized piece. Taken by order of the Lady. That was all it took. A roar like a hurricane filled the cavern and blasted from its mouth. Haldir at the entrance slunk back, head and ears low. He did not know whether to be glad or wantsome for the Lady Hotaru to be here to still him as before. It was all a mess, all to ruin lady The gold made little sense, but the reasoning behind it had no purpose. It didn’t matter if he had wanted it as his own. It didn’t matter if he had joyfully kept it all these years. None of that matters in madness. All that mattered was he had been told to seek it, by orders. And now he would see to it that the looming mountains and biting winds felt him rumble and quake, and know that this monster would no longer be easily caged.


OOC ::
"Speech"