The overgrown caverns seemed alive with subtle, unsettling sounds. Kida moved cautiously, her hooves muffled by a thick carpet of moss. The air was damp, thick with the earthy scent of vines and decay. Her sharp gaze scanned the dark spaces between the twisted roots and creeping plants, searching for signs of danger. She didn’t trust this place, it felt like a trap waiting to spring.

Then she heard it: a soft tinkling sound, faint and metallic. It was accompanied by a scraping noise, like claws on stone. Kida froze mid-step, her ears swiveling toward the source of the sound. Her heart began to race. The overgrown caverns were full of strange and hostile creatures, but this sound was unlike anything she had encountered before. It wasn’t the hiss of a serpent or the rustle of predatory vines. This was something else. Something worse.

The sound grew louder, echoing faintly against the cavern walls. Kida turned her head sharply, her mane whipping to one side. Her eyes narrowed as she caught sight of something glinting in the dim light, a shard of metal, moving. No, it was not just moving; it was crawling.

A worn and ancient chanfron, once the proud helm of a mighty warhorse, skittered across the cavern floor like a living thing. At first, Kida couldn’t believe her eyes. The sight was so unnatural, so wrong, that her brain struggled to make sense of it. But as it drew closer, she saw the grotesque truth. The chanfron wasn’t alive; it was being worn by a creature—a giant, deformed crab.

The crab’s body was pale and withered, its spindly legs clicking against the stone as it moved. Its carapace was warped and mottled, like something that had spent too long in the dark. It moved with an unnerving grace, the chanfron perched atop its back like some twisted parody of a knight’s armor. Its legs twitched and scraped as it advanced, the sound of metal dragging across stone setting Kida’s teeth on edge.

But what truly unsettled her was the creature’s resemblance to something even more vile. Its segmented body and twitching antennae made it look more like a massive cockroach than a crab. It turned its eyeless head toward her, and Kida felt an irrational shudder run down her spine. It didn’t have eyes, but somehow, she felt as though it were watching her.

She took a step back, her hoof crunching on a brittle vine. The sound seemed to startle the creature. It stopped its skittering movement for a moment, its antennae twitching wildly as if sensing her. Then it surged forward, the chanfron glinting ominously.

Kida didn’t wait to see what it wanted. With a loud snort of alarm, she turned and bolted, her hooves thundering against the stone floor. Vines slapped against her sides as she ran, her tail streaming behind her. She didn’t care where she was going; she just needed to get away from the horrible thing.

The tinkling of the chanfron and the scraping of the crab’s legs faded into the distance, but Kida didn’t slow down. Not until she was sure she had put enough distance between herself and the creature did she finally stop, panting and trembling. She glanced back over her shoulder, half-expecting to see the monstrous crab pursuing her. But the cavern behind her was still and silent, the only sound her own ragged breathing.

She shook her mane and stamped her hoof, trying to rid herself of the lingering unease. The image of the deformed crab, its pale body and grotesque movements, was burned into her mind. She’d seen plenty of strange things in her travels, but this? This was something she hoped never to encounter again.

With a wary glance around the cavern, Kida continued on her way, her pace brisk and her ears alert for any more unsettling noises. The overgrown caverns were full of dangers, but she knew she had to press on. Whatever lay ahead, it had to be better than what she had just left behind. Or so she hoped.