A sudden blast of cold air from below douses your torches and lanterns. The grinding of stone on stone is heard as sections of the path underfoot pull away from each other. The platforms of solid ground drift apart, a chilling abyss stretching out below their separation.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The party is breathing heavily after the encounter with The Skull, a few cuts and bruises forming along their bodies as they turn around to leave.

They won. They saved their lives, and no one was gravely injured. Just minor wounds. Good.

Sereia made sure to carefully bandage everyone’s injuries, being as gentle as always, stopping herself from snarky, cocky comments for now. The silence accompanied the party, yet they weren’t uncomfortable. It was the silence of victors that could now bask in its golden glory.

They spend some time resting - no one speaks, yet the silence is like a warm embrace. They’re thankful for each other, thankful that they’re still here.

Sylvan takes a silent look at the rest of her team; her heart clenching uncomfortably at the sight of Cithis’ bandaged leg, quickly averting her gaze from her trainee, moving her eyes to Rogue. He was also injured, although not badly. She knew he was a great choice to add into their ranks at Howlingthorn.

Sereia notices Sylvan’s worried gaze, and offers her friend a gentle nudge in her side. 

“Hey, we’re all alive. You can stop worrying now.” The seafoam-colored Courser softly whispered to the bounty hunter, her forehead scrunched in her own worry. Sereia knew Sylvan was one cocky bastard, and would never show her soft side to anyone willingly. So it was especially concerning now, seeing her furrowed fuzzy eyebrows and distant look in her brown eyes. 

“Me? Worried? Pfft.” The bounty hunter reacted immediately, her behavior changing abruptly. She was hiding her true emotions, as always - Sereia noticed. “I always knew we would get out of it alive. We’re the crème de la crème, aren't we?” Sylvan grinned, winking at the healer. Sereia’s ear twitched. 

“I take it you've heard about them, then?” Sereia lowered her voice. There was only one group of Coursers that spoke with that weird accent. And they weren't the most friendly, or even approachable. 

“A leader has to know her rivals, no?” Sylvan let out a soft laugh, slowly beginning to walk again. Forward to the next adventure. “What's that saying again? Keep your friends close, but your enemies the closest?”

Cithis moved alongside Rogue, feeling comfortable in the presence of the co-trainee, her hooves clicking against the cold floor, her injury not hurting so much anymore - Sereia was truly magical in her ways of healing. 

The rest of the party fell silent once more as they walked, continuing their journey through the dungeon… 

But what would be of the adventure, if there weren't more dangers lurking around? 

First, their lanterns went out and Cithis only managed to let out a brief sound of surprise, before she yelped, sections of the path under their hooves pulling away from each other, leaving the four of them on four different platforms. 

Cithis was shaking, as brave as she was, avoiding looking into the void underneath her hooves, nervously looking between Sylvan, then Rogue, then Sereia, just to go back to Sylvan. The abyss beneath is terrifying, the sounds creepy as if a low whistle was ringing out along the void, like a siren’s call, wanting to watch the Coursers fall into despair and become one with the dungeon. 

“Everyone, stay calm!” Sylvan called out, although she herself felt the breeze of the chilling void, a shiver running down her spine. This time, she wasn't sure exactly how they were going to get out of this scenario…

Rogue bit his tongue, feeling a sliver of nervousness also creep up over his body. They might have defeated The Skull, but now they were injured and not in their best shape - their current predicament should urge them to leave, but as mercenaries… they had to push forward. That was life at the Howlingthorn Guild - they had to be the best in their work.