The heat was steadily growing more and more unbearable, and Castalla could feel the sweat coating her pale fur. Her hair, frizzy and curling with the heat, was plastered to her neck, clinging rather uncomfortably to her skin. Gods, what she wouldn’t give for a cool river or a bath right now.

Below, the lava growled ominously, a constant, bright river in Castalla’s periphery as she carefully navigated the tumult of cobbled rocks running far into the distance. Her gaze flickered between the bend in the path ahead and the mercenary right behind her.

Terrence was mid-speech, recounting (for what felt like the fourth time) how he so expertly navigated the geyser field, a feat that saw him ascend history like a rocket. His voice bounced off the jagged rocks and crumbling path, a mixture of pride and bravado that had Castalla rolling her eyes and pressing on ahead.

“—and then, with a flick of my tail and a leap like you wouldn’t believe, I cleared the last geyser just as it erupted! The heat was insane, but you know me, I keep my cool.”

Castalla glanced back, catching the proud flash of his grin, white-toothed and confident. His armour was spotless, clearly treated with meticulous care, perhaps an echo of the pride in his feats and his lineage. Castalla’s own armour was simple and dull by comparison – leather which, although expensive, was as marked and scarred as Castalla herself.

Terrence’s company was necessary, even if his nature had begun to grate on her nerves a little. He was everything she expected from his reputation: brash, arrogant and far too loud for someone who made a living sneaking through such treacherous terrains. His confident smirk was practically audible, even now that his mouth was actually closed. His lineage was a badge that he wore with pride and honour (so different to Castalla who preferred to keep quiet about her own heritage). Yet, he was skilled, there was no doubt about it, and for all his bluster, he didn’t seem horrible. All the same, she much preferred to venture alone. For her entire life it had been drilled into her that she needed to be the best, the strongest, and experience had only compounded the expectation that she would always have to save herself, that she could rely on no one else.

“You know, that leap gets bigger every time you retell it,” she called back, straining to be heard over the lava.

Terrence shot her a look, all mock offense and playful bravado. “You wound me Castalla. I’m merely adding a bit of charm to this dreary place.”

“Charm?” Castalla raised a single brow, her lip pulling into a restrained smile. “Here I thought I hired you for your knowledge and agility.”

Terrance chuckled, the tones filled with a mixture of amusement and challenge. “The charm comes free with the knowledge. Besides, you need me - I’d hate to see that pretty face get scratched up.” He teased, flashing her a shit-eating grin.

“Too late for that,” Castalla muttered with an amused huff. Turning back to the path that skirted the edge of the lava field.

She may not have been an experienced dungeon explorer, but Castalla Taevaris was no stranger to battle and peril, and danger seemed to court her like a lover. At least on her own she was in control of all the variables – she didn’t have to worry about protecting someone else or making sure someone didn’t suffer for her recklessness. Castalla knew her limits and knew her capability, she could manage that. Anyone else was a liability, someone she needed to keep alive. For all Terrence’s agility and clear ability, Castalla still felt some measure of responsibility for his well-being – after all, she contracted him to come down here.