The cavern's entrance reminds Catson of a predator's looming maw. The stalactitles and stalagmites reaching towards each other in just the right places the sharp and smoothed speared tips cause the courser to shuffle hoof to hoof in anxiousness. Oh why did I agree to this? He wonders to himself. The urge to fall deeper into thoughts of self-doubt is strong but Catson knows that he mustn't. He agreed to this, and so he will do it. If anything he's a courser of his word and...