The breath of Bastille's whisper made the fine hairs rimming the inside of Rhaegal's ears prickle, and a shiver of anticipation ran down his spine. Mismatched eyes sought those of icy blue, and he found he had to restrain himself from abandoning the task at hand in favor of simply bowling her over and resuming the tumbled closeness they'd been engaged in high upon the mountain. His maw parted and he panted lightly, tasting in the scent of the beast and the scent of her, and finding it still harder than usual to focus on the mischief they'd set out to make today.

Once Bastille moved past him, settling into a huntresses stride with her head dipped low to the ground, Rhaegal actually shoved his nose down into the rocks where he'd discovered the scent. He breathed deeply of it, letting it flood hi nostrils and pull his focus back to the here and now. The pair had known each other since they were pups - their first grand adventure taking them to the shores of Glorall with a group of other youngsters. Even then he'd only had eyes for her. Lately, though, he'd found himself intoxicated by her very presence. Maybe it was the chill of winter or the thrill of adventure, but everything he'd ever felt for her seemed to have been magnified of late.

Taking one last deep inhale of the start of the scent trail, Rhaegal lifted his head and swiftly moved to catch up with Bastille in her search. He mirrored her movements, easily falling into sync with her once more. He let the hunt for the beast consume his attention, and they moved as a unit. Together they tracked the scent, until Bastille brought them to the mouth of a dark cave. Rhaegal's head lifted as he stepped up beside her, pressing his shoulder against Bastille's in solidarity. His tail was flung straight out behind him, rigid with excitement. Ears pricked forward as his neck strained forward to peer into the depthless dark of the cave. His pupils began to dilate, trying their best to compensate for the dim lighting. Was that the heavy breaths of a sleeping creature he could hear? Or maybe just the breeze playing tricks in this hollow. Turning his head sideways towards Bastille, he grinned at her words. "There's only one way to find out," he whispered back knowingly.

Perhaps it was foolish, the idea of literally poking a sleeping bear, but a lifetime of pushing the envelope had made the young male bold. And with Bastille at his side, he felt he could do anything. So he stepped forward into the darkness, each paw placed carefully as he crept forward, keen to get close enough to reveal just what kind of beast hid beyond sight.