Tamsin

“And then Frisk was like running at it and the-” Tamsin walked into the next chamber without looking,his head turned back to speak at the others as he rambled in their direction, regaling Bug and Frel (and technically Smudge although they had actually been there during the event in question) with his tale. He stopped, however, when something shifted in the corner of his eye, and turned to gape at the room they had stepped into.

A towering auditorium spilled upward around them, seats that extended upward far beyond where Tamsin’s attention allowed him to look. An occupied auditorium… even if only by a technicality. “Holy Horse, are they ghosts?” Despite the time he had spent underground now, Tamsin still found it in himself to be surprised about the dungeon’s denizens. No matter how many times they may have encountered them before. 

It was a weird experience, to see them moving, their heads and manes moving in invisible wind, mouths open in a bray that couldn’t actually be heard. Their hoofsteps sounded so loud in the arena in comparison, crunching in the sand.

Finally, Tamsin’s wandering attention settled (and helped along by a sharp, fiery nip from Spice sitting on the back of his neck), and his gaze was drawn to the centre of the arena’s floor.

“Erm, what’re we supposed to do with that?”

Bug

Bug plodded along quietly, listening to Tamsin’s tale and trying to follow as best he could. In some ways it reminded him of the way Frog told stories, the thought a fond one. Glancing at Frel, he gently nudged their shoulder only to freeze as he looked around the massive auditorium the little party had stumbled into.

“Holy Horse, are they ghosts?”

Blinking, Bug nodded slowly. “I think they are…” He muttered quietly, taking a half a step back. Fighting corporeal beings was one thing. Dealing with ghosts was quite another. His blood seems to run cold and for a moment he considers trying to leave the way they’d all come in, only to look back and realize they were entirely surrounded.

“Well shit…” Bug glanced towards where Tamsin was looking, ears flicking back against his neck. “I don’t know, and I don’t think I want to know…” He grumbled softly, staring warily at the featureless ghost in the center of the arena. 

Frel

Frel wasn’t listening to Tamsin as he spoke about getting Frisky with someone who was running, or something along those lines. If it mattered, Bug would convey to them the important bits, or Tamsin would simply have to repeat himself. It was something they’d learned when they were young, if someone really wanted to make sure you knew something they’d say it multiple times.You could get away with being distracted by the carvings on the dungeon walls and tune in only at the end of what people were saying with a properly timed, “Wow!” and no one would really care that you weren’t listening.

As the conversation lulled, Bug bumping against them in fondness they recited their line on cue, “Wow!” 

Except the conversation didn’t continue on, which meant something had changed.

Frel glanced up, taking in the awe of where they had found themselves. 

“Oh!” they said softly and under their breath, enraptured by the majesty of what they had discovered. 

“Hmm,” they hummed, glancing from Bug to Tamsin in curiosity and then looking towards the the apparition, “I supposed someone oughta talk to him. Hello sir I – “ 

Before Frel could complete the motion of trotting forward, Smudge was nipping at their neck pulling them back towards the group. 

Smudge

Smudge had been there when Frisk had charged in headfirst,and it was a much more exciting story knowing how it ended than it had been in the moment. He thought for a traitorous moment, it would be better if all his experiences in the dungeon could have been through Tamsin’s hindsight. 

He shook his head, as if a stray gnat had somehow landed in his ear, rather than to clear the thoughts as they entered they next chamber.

Immediately, Smudge was on alert. 

He took in the silent bray of the crowd, the creature that awaited them and he nickered his displeasure. 

Not all of them were so keen on avoiding danger, however, as Frel called out to the thing and Smudge made to restrain them from making the biggest mistake of their lives.

“Don’t be foolish,” he whispered, playing at the confidence he was supposed to have earned through his time. The deeper they dived, the more uncertain he grew of his entire legacy. 

“Can’t you hear them?” he said to his companions, tilting his head up towards the silent crowd 

“They want a fight.”

His whole life had led him to this moment, and he didn’t want a drop of it. 

“I’ll do it.”

He had the legacy, he had the training. Thought Tamsin would probably be best, he hadn’t stepped forward, and so it was up to Smudge to ensure they could continue on.

“I will win.”

He forced the charming smile he’d seen on so many other Coursers, and stepped into the ring, ready to fight for their lives.