Apr 15 2019, 07:51 PM
Those cycles had been spent in a stupor, drifting aimlessly between choking down dry old bones and sleeping high up in the chambers, as if the Collector did not have the ability to easily just... manifest up there. The altitude was comforting, at least, however low it actually was. Truth was, Canis was fairly small and pathetic.
So, that was why Elyon had forced herself to her feet and set off at an uneven gallop through the mist-filled Tunnel N. Upon reaching the starry vault, she simply skirted the edge into a tunnel filled with remnants of wars long fought. Bright eyes danced over the beaten, rusted, worn scraps of metal and old weapons. No blood remained on them and nary a bone was in sight. Her talons clicked further down the tunnel, in pursuit of the source of the hot winds seeming to push her back. A persistent whirlwind snagged at her ruff, twisting it and gnarling it this way and that. Were it not for her bulk and wide, balanced stance, the blasting air might've just bowled her over, then and there.
She pushed further, though her limbs were quickly beginning to grow sore.
The centaur subconsciously drifted toward a slice in the rock, seemingly a hidey-hole to simply rest in; in reality, it was a boiling-hot cavern. Elyon did not complain. The heat felt delightful on her joints and exoskeleton, no matter how much it clung to her ruff and tail. She squeezed warily into the hole, nearly getting her broad chest wedged between the stones due to her astounding Butch Lesbian Form. Bright eyes glinted in the light of the vat of burbling, incandescent liquid. Or, what looked like liquid. It seemed like fire given consistent shape. Unheeding of the piles of scrap material lying around in a cluttered mess, Elyon approached with curious eyes and touchy-feely hands. She immediately drew one back to her chest, rubbing at the scalded joints. Not even the stones lining the edge of the forge were cool enough to touch.
Fucking radical.
@Glory