Time seemed to move differently down here. Tib could’ve sworn that it might’ve been - what- days? Since he’d seen the surface. The incessant drip drip drip that echoed along with the scurries of vermin seemed to float easier to the background now. He’d found a small alcove, his body tired from the state of hyperawareness he’d found himself in after stumbling upon a death trap. 

It was pitch black, but at the mouth of the alcove a single torch flickered. Lapping up the sides of the walls, the flickering light promised the Bay horse that no creatures lie in wait for him here. He could rest, and his tired eyes and limbs really were not allowing him much of a fight.

He curled up on the floor, rump nestled into the far corner. It was surprisingly... warm. He found no cause for alarm at the fact, maybe there was a magical reason he simply wasn’t privy to. To Tibula, most of the world worked in such a way. 

He tucked his front hooves under his chest and lay his chin down on the floor. His eyes slid closed, watching the light at the mouth of the room. The warm oranges and yellows of the flickering torch now soothed him. 

He could feel the soft rumbling of the earth beneath him. It was funny, if he let himself play with the idea, he could almost sense that the rocks were... alive.

“Tibula…”

A soft voice murmured, making the horse stir and frown as he blinked into inky darkness. He looked at where the torch had flickered, his brows furrowing at the betrayal that it had gone out. 

“Hello?” He called out, quickly standing and feeling his heartbeat tick up a notch. He could’ve sworn he heard the imprint the sound of his name left, like someone had just murmured it into the alcove. 

“Listen, this isn't funny.” He warned, ducking his head as he tentatively stepped out of the alcove. 

“Isnt funny?”

The voice hummed, now coming from down the unlit corridor. His head snapped in the direction, utterly unseeing, as he swallowed hard. 

The whispers grew from one to many, like others were humming about him, just out of earshot. Terror crashed through him. Man, he’d just wanted to sleep. 

“Please, stop it.” He begged, letting a little too much of his despair drip into the words. The whispers crescendoed, tittering with glee as the horse’s hooves clopped slowly down the hall. It felt like he was moving outside of his own volition. 

A laugh called to him, drawing close.

“Poor little Tib, never could quite handle the things that go bump in the night.”

He stopped, dead. That wasn’t just any voice. But the voice of his childhood friend, Marcy. Just as he remembered it, when they were only foals. 

Like it was plucked from his memory. 

His brow furrowed, and he huffed as he stepped backward in the darkness. “This isn’t real. You’re playing tricks on me.”

The whispers grew louder, like a hall of horses were humming and laughing at his expense, just around the corner. Tears of frustration welled in Tibula’s eyes as he rounded it. “I said that’s ENOUGH-”

At once the world quieted, and the room he entered was lit with a soft glow that came from dripping stalactites on the ceiling. It was a soft white-green instead of a yellow-orange, and the reflection of the glow rippled on the floor below. It was a pool, and he frowned as he surveyed the room, before he stopped short. 

There, half-hidden in the pool, was his childhood best friend. She was up to her neck in the inky water, her blonde mane floating on top of the water around her in a halo. Instead of the hazel eyes he was used to, her eyes glowed the same green that lit up the ceiling; like the cavern itself possessed her. 

“...Marcy?” He whispered, looking at the horse with a mixture of awe and disgust. 

She smiled to him, and a strange sense of calm lulled over the horses mind.

“Hello, Tib. Long time no see… so this is where you’ve wandered off to, hm?”

She glanced around the cavern, and Tib looked around it with confusion; as if she was clearly not a part of the landscape, herself. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her, and a bit of fear seized his chest. 

“Don’t worry. Your mother won't know… But I do need you to do a favor for me.” 

She smiled, the water rippling softly as she swam to the pools edge, just a few feet from where Tib backed away from. 

“How is this even possible–”

Anger flickered over her alien features. When had her brow gotten so pronounced?

“Hush, enough of this tittering. I need you to find something for me.”  

Tib swallowed, backing up until his rump hit a wall. He froze, her comforting yet bizarre stare taking him in from head to toe. How was she treading water so easily? The Marcy he knew hardly let herself venture further to a stream than to sip at. 
A grin split her face as she realized he wasn’t saying no to her request.

“There is a crown that you will find, not far from here. Despite all your instincts, I need you to don it. Then, bring it to me.”

She bobbed up and down in the water, her eyes two floating spectres rippling on the water’s surface.

He gulped, frowning as he shook his head. “What if I don't want to?”

Her semi-friendly features dropped, and she chuckled darkly in a way that rippled off of the cave’s walls.

“You’ll anger me. And you wouldn’t want to anger your precious Marcy...”

It was in between blinks that suddenly she was in Tibs face, her glowing eyes flaring and her grin turning into a mouthful of knives as he gasped.

“...RIGHT?”

Tib yelped as he jerked awake, letting out a whinny of fear as he found himself back in the safety of his cavern. The trusty torch flickered again, reassuring him he really had never left. His ear twitched at the sound of trickling water, and he looked just to his right to see a little stream of water had begun to trickle in over the rock. Making soft splashing and dripping sounds, before it carved a small path through the stone and disappeared again from the room.

He huffed and stood at once, shaking off the dream before he continued on his path. He was rested, but only just.