Diomedes charged down the narrow, dimly lit corridor, his hooves pounding the stone floor. His muscles rippled with every step, his head held high as he neighed confidently, “Ain’t no dungeon too big for me, Tyffyn! I’m gonna crush whatever’s down here!”

He took a sharp turn and skidded to a stop in front of a massive stone door, the size of a small castle gate. It was thick, covered in strange markings, and completely untouched by time.

Tyffyn trotted behind him, her gait slow and deliberate. Her calm eyes surveyed the door, her tail flicking gently behind her. “Diomedes,” she began in her soft, steady voice, “Sometimes, strength alone won’t get us through. We need to think. Look at those markings. There’s something here we need to understand first.”

Diomedes snorted, puffing out his chest. “Think? I don’t need to think. I’ve got this!” He lowered his head, prepared to charge at the door with all his might.

Tyffyn sighed, stepping forward and placing a gentle hoof on his shoulder. “I know you want to help, and I admire your bravery. But you’re not alone in this. Let’s figure it out together, hmm?”

Diomedes’ eyes widened, his enthusiasm momentarily dampened by her words. He glanced back at the markings, furrowing his brow in confusion. “I… guess we could try thinking first?”

Tyffyn smiled, her warmth filling the air like the sun breaking through clouds. “We’ll tackle this together, Diomedes. You’ve got the strength, and I’ve got the wisdom. We make a good team.”

With a huff, Diomedes stepped back, giving her room to examine the door. “Alright, Tyffyn. You lead the way… but I still think I could knock it down in one hit.”

“One step at a time,” she replied, turning her attention to the intricate carvings.

Diomedes skidded to a halt, his hooves digging into the soft earth as the sight before him sent a chill down his spine. The skeletal remains of two figures lay sprawled across the moor, their bony forms locked in a strange, eerie embrace. A human’s arms were wrapped around a courser’s skull, their foreheads touching as if in a final, tender moment of unity. Diomedes’ breath caught in his throat, and his tail flicked nervously.

“Whoa…” he muttered, his voice quieter than usual. “That’s… that’s something.”

Tyffyn, her eyes soft but alert, approached with careful steps, her hooves barely making a sound on the wet ground. She lowered her head, her gaze lingering on the remains. There was a deep, quiet sadness in her eyes, a sorrow for the bond lost. She tilted her head slightly, as if trying to understand the silent story the scene was telling.

“Such a strange pose,” she murmured, her voice gentle. “This… this was no ordinary battle or death. The way they are positioned, the closeness they shared—it suggests a bond. Something deeper than we often see in the world of flesh and bone.”

Diomedes shifted uneasily, his chest puffing up as his usual bravado returned. “Yeah, but… that’s weird, right? A human and a courser? It’s not like we ever… I mean, why would they...… you know… do that.”

Tyffyn nodded, her voice a soft whisper of understanding. “This is the moor. Here, things are different. The land has seen ages and stories that we can never fully understand. Perhaps these two found something in each other that the world couldn’t take away, even in death.”

Diomedes furrowed his brow, unsure of how to respond. The thought of a human and a courser sharing such a bond was beyond his understanding. But the sincerity in Tyffyn’s tone struck a chord within him. “Maybe you’re right,” he said slowly, his voice softer than usual. “Maybe there’s more to this than just… death.”

The wind shifted, and the moor seemed to sigh with the weight of forgotten stories. Diomedes stood still, his earlier bravado melting into something more reflective. “What do you think happened to them, Tyffyn?”

Tyffyn gazed out over the landscape, her eyes distant. “I don’t know, Diomedes. But it’s a reminder that there is meaning in all things—both life and death. Perhaps they shared a moment of peace in the end.”

Diomedes lowered his head, his heart heavy with an unfamiliar quiet. He glanced at the remains once more, his eyes lingering on the bond between the two skeletons. For the first time in a long while, he felt a deep sense of respect for what the moor had shown him.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. “Maybe there’s more to it after all.”