"What do you make of it?" Astera questioned from ahead, having taken a bit of the lead, and entered the long abandoned camp without much pause. Spuds stood at the precipice, only one beige hoof in the chamber while the remainder of him stood shaking on the outskirts. The tattered fabric of the tent lay like torn skin upon skeletal bones, its dark maw gaping with a hunger that had long paled to starvation. He could see it now: a mimic meant to devour them, just pretending to be some long-forgotten encampment. Its fraying edges would transform into fangs and it'd gobble them up whole with a few quick chews. He shook so violently that even the clips of his braces rattled. The amethyst mare he'd met on the surface looked back at him, she called his name, and Spuds snapped his chocolate gaze to her and away from the could-be-mimic.

        "What'd you say?" He asked again, ears falling to the side as he coiled back in on himself. It wasn't becoming to ignore the words of highborn, but he supposed in this case he was allowed some grace. Besides, Astera had already proven herself immensely patient.

        She smiled at the tobiano, before gesturing with her pink-kissed muzzle towards the far wall. "Over here, there are some etchings."

        Well, she hadn't been eaten... so if it was a starving monster laying in wait, it sure wasn't very good at surprise attacks. Spuds inched forward into the room, head low, eyes sweeping the dusty items discarded about the space. Iron cooking tools, molded leather straps, and human leathers. Behind the veil of his lids, he had a fleeting memory of a distant dream, one with white fences and the smiles of human women. With another blink, it was gone. He looked to Astera, who still patiently stood in her much finer armaments still waiting for his take on the matter. He cleared his throat and finally came beside her to peer at the damp wall. On a singular carved stone were worn letters.

                GALATEA

        "Galatea?" He wondered aloud, cocking his head so that his ears flopped. "Like... Galactic? Galaxy?"

        Astera perked besides him, "You think? Like stars?"

        Spuds offered her an incredulous expression, "I have no idea. I just don't know what Galatea means. You're the one with all the starlight stuff, what do you think?"

        The tyrian woman huffed at him despite the smile on her lips. Thankfully, it touched her lavender eyes, so she hadn't gotten tired of his constant questions. "Don't ask me, if my fathers had anything to say about it, I wouldn't know what I do already. Wasn't becoming of a lady to know histories or astrology, let alone take to dungeon diving."

        Oh... well, he supposed that made sense. He flicked his tail, the strands sparse but thick enough that the alabaster almost hid the shoot of umber locks. He offered one final glance at the etchings, their corners rounded with years of exposure to the natural atmosphere of the caves. Who knew what it meant... perhaps someday they would find out. "Let's get out of here before that tent turns out to be a mimic."

        Astera laughed.