Nearly perfectly silent, strode the shape of Phantasmagoria - Phantasm, if you wanted to be quick. Pale silver eyes peered from under the brim of their hat, and scraped and scanned their surroundings with a practiced, easy air.

They had no one to escort today - a simple delve into the depths to hunt out treasures to be hawked and traded up above would do well enough, really, and it led to more familiarity with the stonework beneath his hooves, the winding patterns of the walls, and how to best speed one's way to a certain level if requested by a client.

There was a faint tinktink of metal and they stopped exactly where they stood, one hoof raised. Their head turned, and his eyes caught the shuffling, scuttling shape of the crab - hermit crab? - marching along, with a courser's helm as its house. Hm. They hadn't exactly seen that before, but it seemed harmless enough - and probably knew where the nearest place he'd find water was, at that.

Silently, they fell into hoof step behind the scuttling thing, careful not to let their shadow fall over it suddenly and startle it into hiding. No, none of that now. Their axe remained safely nestled in its strap over their side and back.

The slow scurrying sounds and the faint ting of metal would become rather soothing, they thought, if one held them in their ears and mind long enough. Eventually a split in the corridor emerged, and steering a slime away from their scuttling guide with a firm kick, Phantasm turned after them, and took a mental note to fetch some of his more crumbly rations to offer the 'helmeted' crab some once they got where they were going.

The sound of flowing water caused their ears to prick up, a slow smile settling onto his features. Their instincts were primed for the dungeon, trained to a near perfection, particularly on this lower level here. He ducked under an archway, stepping lightly after the crab as they emerged into a room with a pool of clear water, and a trickling run-off that ran down a wall and into it.

Moss lined the path of the water, and a 'trough' of sorts had been eroded into the stonework by the trickle, and time both.

They stepped lightly to the stream, lowering his head for a sniff and a slow drink. The crab scuttled up beside their hoof, and settled into the pool. Re-hydrating itself, perhaps.

After a bit, they fetched their flask - carefully removing the cap with their teeth, then taking it by the handle and dipping it in the pool to fill it - and doing all these steps in reverse again. Then a rough paper packet was dragged out of their pack - and they ground a hoof into it, before using his teeth to tear it open.

Some of the crumbly dungeon ration inside was shaken out onto the stonework, just a bit in front of the pool, and the soaking crab.

"A return on investment for you." Phantasm said, in a low, soft voice. Then they stuffed the ration remnants unceremoniously into their pack, and he slipped away to continue his trek.