All of Its action so far, the changes of scene, the ominous encounters, moving landscape, they had all been what a living thing might call reflexes. For now, the place/thing slept. But Its rest had recently become fitful. It twisted in Its slumber, murmuring to Itself with cold winds and shifting lands.
Something had entered Its domain. Two somethings.
One, It recognized. An old creature, one that thought itself an enemy. Tartarus was rather fond of her. She was powerful, and always entertaining, if rather predictable. Its inability to permanently capture her was an irritant, but it was only a matter of time until it solved that particular puzzle.
The other…
The other was something new.
Tartarus had nothing that resembled a face, but if It had, one might have witnessed a slight smile creep across the visage of the sleeping titan. Tartarus loved new things.