[It's important to appreciate lichen. It's probably several hundred years old, and has survived things that neither of them ever could.]
[The tunnel is as winding as you might expect a dry stream bed to be. Though it was probably no more than a trickle at the peak of its life, it has managed to excavate a tunnel large enough for even angie to move through comfortably. Rocks have fallen from the ceiling at some point in the distant past, and they supply some jagged contrast to the smooth water-worn walls. ]
[As they go deeper into the tunnel, the light from the cave mouth gets farther away. And yet, his eyes seem to have no trouble adjusting. It's almost pitch black, but it may as well be illuminated by a full moon's worth of visibility. You were born to be in places like this.]
[They follow the trail, twisting and turning, descending ever deeper into the welcoming earth. The passage becomes narrower, the ceiling lower, until they have to crouch to continue.]
[They finally get to what would be a dead end... except for a small hole, just big enough to crawl through. Despite everything, bright, sunset-warm light pours in, and the breeze that beckons them from the other side is fresh.]
[Azdaja gets on all fours and wriggles through the hole, then disappears. It seems as if, to access this holy place, Mother Pulmungt herself has requested that you humble yourself, first.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
momijizukamori
no subject
Date: 2024-04-17 04:24 pm (UTC)[The tunnel is as winding as you might expect a dry stream bed to be. Though it was probably no more than a trickle at the peak of its life, it has managed to excavate a tunnel large enough for even angie to move through comfortably. Rocks have fallen from the ceiling at some point in the distant past, and they supply some jagged contrast to the smooth water-worn walls. ]
[As they go deeper into the tunnel, the light from the cave mouth gets farther away. And yet, his eyes seem to have no trouble adjusting. It's almost pitch black, but it may as well be illuminated by a full moon's worth of visibility. You were born to be in places like this.]
[They follow the trail, twisting and turning, descending ever deeper into the welcoming earth. The passage becomes narrower, the ceiling lower, until they have to crouch to continue.]
[They finally get to what would be a dead end... except for a small hole, just big enough to crawl through. Despite everything, bright, sunset-warm light pours in, and the breeze that beckons them from the other side is fresh.]
[Azdaja gets on all fours and wriggles through the hole, then disappears. It seems as if, to access this holy place, Mother Pulmungt herself has requested that you humble yourself, first.]