The mist clung heavily to the Moor, curling around Archimedes's hooves as he moved cautiously through the desolate land. The air was damp and unnervingly still, muffling even the sound of Tyffyn's cheerful steps beside him.

“You think this place ever had, I don’t know, a better vibe?” Tyffyn quipped, her voice light despite the oppressive atmosphere.

Archimedes didn’t respond immediately. His eyes were fixed ahead, sharp and calculating. The faint glint of something moving in the mist caught his attention, and he held up a hoof, signaling Tyffyn to stop.

“Hold,” he said softly, his tone carrying an edge of command.

Tyffyn tilted her head, squinting into the fog. “What is it?”

The shape emerged slowly, a spectral Courser wandering aimlessly through the mire. Its armor was battered and torn, the remnants of an age long past. A second figure—a human specter—sat astride the Courser's back. The rider’s form flickered, translucent and fragile, as though the mist might carry them away at any moment.

“Oh, yikes-” Tyffyn began, but Archimedes silenced her with a sharp glance.

“They don’t see us yet,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “Let’s keep it that way.”

The spectral pair moved in ghostly tandem, the rider’s head turning to scan the horizon as the Courser’s hooves barely disturbed the ground. They seemed lost, disconnected from the world around them.

“Do you think they’re one spirit?” Tyffyn asked in a hushed tone, her usual energy muted by the sight.

“Possibly,” Archimedes replied, his analytical mind already dissecting the scene. “Or perhaps one is bound to the other. The bond between a Courser and its rider was once said to transcend death.”

Tyffyn’s expression softened, and she whispered, “That’s… kind of sad.”

“Sentimentality won’t protect us if they notice us,” Archimedes said, his voice clipped. “Specters like these often linger for a reason. And it’s rarely a good one.”

The human specter turned its head sharply, as if sensing something. Archimedes stiffened, his sharp mind racing for options. The spectral Courser halted, its glowing eyes fixing on a point just shy of where they stood.

“Uh, Arch? They’re looking real close now,” Tyffyn said, her usual humor replaced with nervous tension.

“Quiet,” Archimedes hissed. He stepped back slowly, keeping his movements deliberate. “We don’t engage unless they provoke.”

The specters lingered for a moment longer before the rider tugged gently on the reins, guiding the spectral Courser deeper into the mist. Their forms faded gradually, and all at once, dissapeared completely.

Archimedes exhaled, tension leaving his shoulders. “They’re gone.”

Tyffyn let out a breathy laugh, the sound trembling at the edges. “Well, that was fun. Next time, let’s take the scenic route, yeah?”

Archimedes glanced at her, his expression unreadable. “In the Moor, every route is scenic.”

Together, they pressed on, the weight of the encounter lingering like the ever-present mist around them.