Gintare's amber eyes, the feature for which she had been named, were open very wide, drinking in all the available light, of which there was very little. She was not pleased to find herself in the position she was in, but there was next to no point in complaining. For one thing, there was no one to here her. For another thing - and this was the more important, really - she had gotten herself into this.
The choice had been simple, and it had been all hers. She could have taken the difficult path up, over, and around the mountains or she could simply take the more direct path through them. Logically, there had seemed to be no reason for her to take the longer route, and so she had disdained it and chosen to take the dark path. She hadn't realized at the time that dark path wasn't just a pretty turn of phrase, but actually a descriptive term.
She had been offered, at the beginning, the option of waiting for a guide to take her through, but she had refused the offer. The guide which had been proposed had looked to Tare like the sort of lion who would try to take advantage of a young lioness in a dark, unfamiliar place, and Tare wasn't having any of that. She didn't mind a bit of loveplay and pretending to be lost, but being truly powerless and at someone else's mercy did not appeal to the dark-furred lioness.
At least that's how she'd felt about it initially. Now she was beginning to wonder if she shouldn't have taken the risk of being taken advantage of. As matters stood, Tare wasn't one hundred percent certain she'd make it out of the cave network before she died of thirst. Not that she had any way of knowing how long she'd been under the mountain, but it seemed like it had been at least two days.
She'd been told that the path should take no more than a day, which didn't bode well, she thought. She was too proud and self-reliant, however, to call out for help. She would wait, and in the meantime try to scent someone else's passage. It couldn't be that difficult, if they only ever took one path through the mountain, to find it and track them. She wished she'd come on that idea earlier, but now would be fine, too. It was a pity she couldn't see anything.
After what might have been another few hours, Tare finally was forced to admit that she was no closer to finding her way to a main path than she had been to finding her way out. Hating herself for insisting she needed no help and then going back on her word and hating the guardians for not insisting that she needed help or at least sending someone in after her, Tare sat back on her haunches and called out for someone to answer her.
Hearing her own voice echo back to her frightened Tare more than she had expected it to, because it reminded her of how very alone she was. Loneliness was not usually something Tare suffered from, and it was not loneliness which plagued her now. It was a very real, and very practical fear of being terminally lost in the darkness until she perished from privation. Or, even worse, she might fall prey to something which dwelt in the darkness. The guardians had hinted that there were some creatures living beneath the mountains which even lions would do best not to encounter.
She continued to call out, but the continuing echoes scared her too much for her to hold still. Instead she went back to walking with a wall against her left flank, hoping that it would eventually lead her out. Somewhere she had heard that keeping the same wall on the same side no matter what would get you out of any labyrinth, but Tare had never been in a labyrinth before, and would have been just as happy to forgo the experience. She hated being blind, too, since her other senses weren't becoming more acute to compensate for her useless eyes as they were supposed to do.
The rough surface of the cave wall caught at her fur and pulled it out in painful tufts sometimes, but Tare pressed on, keeping her shoulder on the wall even when it seemed to be moist. She never closed her eyes, even though they availed her little. She wanted to see the first hint of light the moment it appeared, and not miss it just because her eyes were closed. Besides, she learned in a few minutes' experiment with her eyes closed that it felt like the mountain was pressing against her and trying to crush her. It was better to keep her eyes open, even if it was useless.
She kept walking, her stomach growling and her throat parched. Her eyes burned, though she didn't know why they should. There was no light to scorch them, no dust to sting them. From what she could tell, they only pained her because she was straining them to see when there was no light by which to see. But maybe there was. She might have imagined it, but it seemed to Tare that the cave was maybe a little more grey than black. That meant that she was going in the right direction, she hoped.
Or maybe she was simply going mad in the darkness. Maybe that was how those things the guardians had spoken of had gotten to be the fearsome creatures they were. Hunger, thirst, and darkness had brought them to the brink of insanity, and maybe cannibalism. She had once consumed leonine flesh unknowingly, and to her everlasting shame she still craved the taste sometimes. Maybe she was destined to be a monster of madness. But surely the gods would not be so cruel?
Tare was moments away from wailing like a frightened cub when she saw - saw - movement ahead. Heedless of the fact that it might be dangerous, she raced toward the movement and stumbled into an unsuspecting lion who wore the faintly glowing paint of a guardian. She was so relieved by his presence that she didn't bother to get up for several moments. Once she recovered herself, Tare pretended as though nothing had happened and walked out of the cave, thrilled to find herself on the opposite side of the mountain.
"That wasn't so hard," she announced to no one in particular before continuing on her way.
