Coronet continued down the left path, and eased his way past the thick overgrowth. The air was thick and humid, and it struck the Coursers for the first time just how alone he was. He knew that others ventured below in groups, leaning on the strength of others to get by. But that simply wasn't his style. Needing others meant having to abide by their rules, their restraints. For Coronet, the underground offered a freedom unlike what was available above. And he had no interest in having that infringed upon.

As he pondered the politics and restrictions of being in a party a slimy vine brushed against his withers. He shuddered, and turned to inspect it. The plant was growing from the ceiling, and was dripping with decay. Perhaps it was more accurate to suggest that it once been alive, as it now seemed more mush than plant. Coronet tried to shake the slime off, but it clung to him. He let out an exasperated breath, and trotted forward. May up ahead he could find something to wipe off on. He moved as quickly as he could, while being hemmed in by the walls and all the plant life. Thankfully nothing else that brushed up against him was in an advanced state of decay.