Her tongue upon his cheek only served to excite him more for the adventure to come, and he paused just long enough in the wake of the action to watch her run past him. His head tilted slightly to the side, appreciating the way her golden-tipped tail bounced behind her as she ran, but then there was no time to waste and he was leaping forward to keep up with her. Rhaegal had never minded letting Bastille take the lead - a scion of the mountainborn lineage, he'd been surrounded by strong female leaders all his life - and it seemed to only dawn on him now that he didn't mind the view so much.

They pressed on, strides unrelentingly eating up the ground beneath them, navigating the mountain passes with the ease that only came from living one's entire life upon them. Eventually the slopes turned into the foothills, and the foothills gave way to the more even terrain of the freelands. Stretching out his legs, Rhaegal pushed himself faster to pull up alongside Bastille and then fell into stride with her. Matching her gait, their paws beating the ground in synchrony, to anyone who saw them passing by they might think them a bonded pair. And in many ways, they were.

When they reached the crags the pair finally slowed, and Rhaegal's tongue lolled from his mouth as he panted happily from the exertion. In the prime of his life, the young male was incredibly fit - the pair's constant affinity for getting into trouble meant plenty of running away in the aftermath, and he was built for it. Sleek, lean muscles rippled across his body as he moved alongside Bastille at a walk. His mismatched eyes roved around the crags, half expecting to spot some massive cougar waiting just for them. Of course, it was never that simple - and that was half the fun of it. Shifting his gaze to Bastille as she spoke, one side of parted maw quirked into a grin at her words. "Well, they've gotta sleep somewhere, right?" His brows popped with enthusiasm, and then together they began to rove slowly across the craggy expanse. There were a few hidden caves in the area - what better place to find a sleeping bear?

There seemed almost to be a magnetism between the pair, keeping them close together and ensuring an occasional bump of shoulders or a brush of tails. Rhaegal lowered his head to sniff at the ground, weaving back and forth in search of some scent trail that would raise some red flags. It took some time, but he didn't mind just moseying about with Bastille, glancing her way every once in a while when she wasn't looking and finding himself distracted from the task at hand. After some time, he considered abandoning the search in favor of a nearby iced-over pond where they would surely find some fun in slipping and sliding across the surface, but just as he was about to raise his head and chase Bastille towards it, a foreign scent infiltrated his nostrils. The bridge of his snout wrinkled involuntarily and he snorted. "Think I've got something, Bast," he whispered to her, though she was close at hand and likely would have picked up on it as well. The real question was, where would it lead them?