It was rather bright this morning, with the light of the sun striking directly into the mouth of the cavern that I had remained dormant in for some time now, thus feeling like I had no privacy. With the light pooling further and further into the lair like an incessant flood, I had found my side was pinned against the jagged walls as if I could somehow meld myself into its shadows. The day was only beginning and if I wanted to remain unscathed by the sun’s light, it was time for me to venture deeper into this sanctum that I have chosen.

Turning my back from the opening of this grotto, my head was held low while ebony paws had carried me. With each step that was taken, I could feel the presence of the sunlight drifting farther away. The surface of the rocks under my paw became more sleek, more cool to the touch—and the sound of absolute silence with the absence of the wind was something that made this feel even more pristine. Each uneven jut from the ground called for a small recalculation of stride, with a weave to the side or perhaps a leap onto a higher ledge. It was only a matter of time that my coal-black form would detach itself from the walls, feeling more at ease with every step.

Darkness had an odd way with things, for many would fear for things that they could not see thus they wouldn’t even begin to understand if they were to just.. walk into something. The bowels of the world are where I, Nightingale, have remained for the two years that I have breathed; darkness was my one and only, my dearest companion. Darkness is what taught this wicked beauty to rely more strongly on other means than my eyesight, which would explain my infamous accounts of heightened auditory senses, impeccable tracking, as well as keeping whereabouts uncompromised. Darkness embraces me for all that I am—for I am of the same essence as these shadows, an eternal principle that very few could actually interpret and apply for their own definition. Very few attained this same knowledge, and even lesser had tapped into its truest potential. Darkness was the skeleton key for all things imaginable, if one would open their mind and allow entry for such dangerous information.

The darkness was disturbed. She could feel it in the tension of the air before her, the way that it quivered in the presence of those that were blind to its magic at work. Such sounds in absolute bleak conditions would make others skittish, wary and cautious of what could be right at their door. It wasn’t long until the sound of a clattering rock grinded along the surface of this basement terrain, though I knew it hadn’t broken off from the wall and simply fell to the floor. There was a screech that came every time the rock had struck the surface in its tossed flight—it was disturbed from its resting place by a lazy, clumsy paw. Blackened lips pulled into this grimace of endearment, the blinding jaws of razored edge, for this could mean only one thing—Nightingale had company.

Lowering her stance to that of a crouch, she slithered her way across wet rock and jagged edge, weaving through this labyrinth of lawless and unhindered terrain as the sounds of a shushed current of water was soon at play. The whispers of these liquid rivulets against smooth rock were close and the current was slow, probably from an excessive leak from a much larger water source. Near this water source was another wolf, two in fact— though the other was held back at the fissure of these dwellings. Neither of which had my amethyst quartz-like eyes had ever come across before and their smells were entirely off, neither being from the same region. This stirred my unquenched curiosity, so with the most silent of movements, I pulled myself up onto one of the higher ledges that quaked out from the walls and lowered down until my belly was flesh with the slick stone, watching the two from above without a sound.

Nightingale
take a journey with me tonight