He had gone down a route in the dungeons he had not before, these mossy caverns having strange signs of ancient lives having been here long ago way before he had come to being. The moss started to slowly dissipate as more ancient signs of living took over as he happened upon the cave paintings of fat little Coursers in a herd.

So crude, yet full of expression in those tiny barely detailed faces. All running in a herd towards an unknown destination. He stared at these small and stylized cave paintings, his mind occasionally drifting to the question of who created these before going back to being empty of questions with his blank expression staring at the rustic cave art.

The drawn herd made him feel something akin to nostalgia, when he wasn't so skittish and lonesome, afraid of losing control. And afraid of if other Coursers would be untrusting of him. It would not of been a shock to him for that is how he was separated from his original herd after he lost control, killing and drinking the blood of a dungeon-dwelling beast that he no longer remembered what it was. He was chased away into the dungeons, his herd no longer welcoming him.

Korhonen did not see this as unfair, he was rightfully exiled to the darkness for such foul and animalistic actions. A disgusting allowance of feral uncouthness, but as he stared at these cave drawings drawn with a soft togetherness for others...

He missed the comfort of a herd. But he didn't think anyone would take such a beastly Courser such as himself. If he could meet a Courser who saw no wrong in Korhonen's existence, one who was unconditionally caring and could help him keep control...the vampire could once again be a social being with no fear of harming others.