"Is something... Following you? you can hear the rustle of movement somewhere behind you. you catch glimpses of a shape in your periphery. Whenever you turn around, the Dungeon is very empty and very still. How do you react?"

✦

A faint rustling broke the stillness of the Moor of Sleep, so soft it could have been the wind brushing through the mist. Selaine stopped mid-step, her ears swiveling back as she turned her head. Behind her, the endless expanse of the Moor stretched on, shrouded in thick fog. There was nothing to see but shadows and the faint outlines of twisted, skeletal trees.

“Do you hear that?” she asked quietly, her voice cutting through the eerie silence.

Tyffyn, a few paces ahead, paused and glanced back. Her usually bright expression was muted by the oppressive weight of the Moor. “Hear what?” she asked, though her tail flicked nervously.

“That sound,” Selaine replied, her voice sharper this time. She glanced over her shoulder again, her eyes scanning the mist. The noise came again—a soft rustle, like hooves brushing against damp ground. But when she turned, there was only emptiness.

Tyffyn trotted back toward her, her usual cheer replaced with a cautious determination. “The Moor plays tricks on you, you know. It’s probably nothing.”

Selaine’s grip tightened on the hilt of her sword. “No,” she said firmly. “There’s something out there.”

Tyffyn studied her for a moment before giving a small shrug. “Alright. Let’s figure out what it is—or make it show itself.”

The two mares moved forward together, but the sense of being watched didn’t fade. If anything, it grew stronger, prickling at Selaine’s skin and making her every step feel heavier. The rustling came again, louder this time, and Selaine whipped around, her sword flashing in the dim light.

“See anything?” Tyffyn asked, her voice low.

Selaine scanned the mist. “No,” she admitted, her jaw tight. “But it’s there. Watching us.”

Tyffyn stepped closer, her ears flicking nervously. “You think it’s one of those restless spirits?”

“Maybe,” Selaine said, though she didn’t sound convinced. The spirits of the Moor were loud, desperate things, wailing as they clung to their lost lives. Whatever this was, it was quiet. Patient.

The ground beneath their hooves grew softer, spongy with the moisture of the Moor. The red pigment staining the earth clung to their hooves like dried blood, and Selaine felt her unease deepen.

A sudden glow cut through the fog, soft but steady, and both mares froze. The rustling grew louder, followed by the sound of hooves against stone. Selaine tensed, her sword raised, but the familiar, gentle flicker of lantern light made her lower it just as quickly.

“Camellia?” Tyffyn called out, her voice rising with relief.

The light grew closer, and out of the mist came Camellia, her lanterned staff swaying gently as she trotted toward them. The warm glow painted the mist in golden hues, chasing away the eerie shadows.

“There you are,” Camellia said, her voice calm but tinged with concern. She glanced between the two of them, her lantern illuminating their tense faces. “I thought I’d lost you in this fog.”

Selaine let out a slow breath, her grip on her sword relaxing. “We thought something was following us,” she admitted, though her eyes still scanned the mist beyond Camellia.

Camellia tilted her head, her soft gaze flicking toward the darkness behind her. “The Moor does love its tricks,” she said, her voice steady. “But I didn’t see anything unusual on my way here.”

Tyffyn stepped closer to the lantern’s glow, her posture relaxing. “Whatever it was, it’s gone now. Or maybe it was just the Moor messing with us.”

Camellia nodded, her lantern swinging gently as she moved to stand between them. “Stay close,” she said. “This light should keep anything at bay—real or imagined.”

Selaine hesitated, her ears still flicking toward the mist. “Do you think it was really nothing?” she asked, her voice quieter now.

Camellia turned her lantern toward the fog, the golden light pushing back the shadows. “I can’t say for sure,” she admitted, “but I do know this: fear feeds the Moor. The more you let it in, the more it takes from you.”

Selaine nodded slowly, though her jaw remained tight. She took a step closer to Camellia, letting the warmth of the lantern light steady her nerves.

Tyffyn gave a small laugh, her usual cheer returning. “See? I told you it was nothing. Good thing Camellia showed up when she did. That lantern of hers is worth more than all the treasure in these ruins.”

Camellia smiled softly but said nothing, her focus on the path ahead. The three mares moved forward together, the lantern’s glow cutting through the mist.

Behind them, the rustling stopped, and the Moor fell silent once more.