They had missed it.

      The opening whirled by them so quickly Rustica hadn't had the time to try and get any leverage to stop their careening slide down the chute. Rather in her attempts, they collided with the the wall. Rotharde hit head first with a crack, one that twisted Rustica's insides and bid her not to look down. Ansgrim toppled over her brother, colliding back into a jutting section of the grime-covered walls. A yelp of pain erupted from him before he fell silent as well. Rustica was left alone with her own spiraling thoughts. Her eyes frantically search for some help, something to keep them from crashing into whatever lay at the bottom of the shoot. But they continue, they continue passed branching path after branching path. There was no way that she could maneuver their dead weight in an attempt to get to the shadowed passages to escape so she was left as a captured audience to their failure.

      Sobs bubbled in her throat and she forced them to remain down out of sheer fear of what waited for them at the bottom. In the dim light of the humid air there was no telling when the end may be. Would it be spikes like the traps she'd fallen into previously? Would it be into one of the Earthen Furnace's magma falls? Would it simply be an inescapable pit? Tears started to stream down her face, the first sniffle of defeat breaking through her hastily erected barriers. Were they going to die? Would she be decaying in the bottom of some forgotten dungeon area before she had the opportunity to be a mom and carry on the Rohakas family legacy?

      After what felt like an eternity they rolled into a vat of slime. It was at least fetlock deep in the shallows, but clumps taller than a short Courser nested along the walls. Rustica slipped and fought for purchase along the ground, grabbing whatever packs she could to elevate Rotharde and Angsrim's faces out of the grime. Her body shook with silent cries as she worked meticulously to save the others from drowning in orange goo - comical, given their previous experience with a giant's skeleton and weapon. Time was lost to Rustica as she searched, probed, and prodded along the small room. All she found were discarded bits of equipment and other equines' bones who'd failed to leave this place.

      Her resolve was fraying. Labored breaths raked through her until her throat felt dry. White crescents had long grappled to the corners of her eyes with every dart or flick when she thought she heard something. The longer time persisted the more she lost her footing. What felt like another hour went by and she ambled over to her brother and friend. Their breaths were shallow, they were alive, but there was no waking them. They'd need medical attention at the very least and she wasn't the one who could provide it. Collapsing to her knees, she lay down in the thick layer of slime drippings and let the exhaustion overtake her.

---

      She awoke to find a mole sitting right before her, peering from the hole it had burrowed through the ground and slime. A small speck of the goo sat upon its head, almost like a hat, and its beady eyes just watched her. A mole? This deep down? Her head rose as she peered down at the small thing. It didn't even flinch but rather remained still despite its twitching nose.

      "Can you help us?" She croaked.

      The mole danced its little hands across the mound it'd created. She blinked. Did it understand her?

      "P-please! Please go find others! Other horses, we need help, we can't get out of here."

      Again the mole tapped its hands upon the mound before disappearing into the hole. Rustica's breath held, caught somewhere between her throat and lungs, and after a moment, the mole popped back up. It tilted its head, little orange hat gone.

      "What, please!" She cried, new tears following the previously dried tracks down her face. It tilted its head the other way. "I'll find someway to repay you, I promise."

      The mole's tapping was excited, audible even, and it disappeared back beneath the earth.

===

      "Is anyone down there?"

      Ansgrim had woken, though groggy, and lifted his head at the unfamiliar voice. Rustica had fallen asleep, exhausted in her terror, and hadn't stirred. Did he imagine it?

      "I repeat, is anyone down there?"

      "Holy shit..." Ansgrim tried to stand, but the pain along his back bloomed and he slumped back down. "HERE! We're here!"

      The yell woke Rustica this time, jolting her from her rest. "What-what's happening?"

      "Someone's come to rescue us," Ansgrim managed through elated sobs. Rustica glanced up towards the slope. Sure enough, small lights could be seen through the gloom. Others were descending the slide slowly, and when they finally came into view, they had used ropes and a series of hooks to grapple down. Gods... that was so smart.

      Besides her, she heard excited tapping. The mole returned, its fingers seeming to dance with elation. She brushed it with her muzzle quickly, a smile breaking on her worn face. "Thank you."