This part of the cave looks older than the rest. In rustic dye, you encounter a crude depiction of Coursers unlike any you’ve ever seen before, their oddly-proportioned bodies running in a herd along the wall. Who could have made this? How does it make you feel?

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The rhythmic sound of hooves clicking against the stone floor echoes across the corridor, familiar melody of exploring Courser spreading across the dungeon. Whether you wanted it or not, the dungeon called to you – sooner or later, every Courser would find themselves wandering through the various corridors, halls, caves; those were second nature to the treasure-seeking horses. The heart of the Coursers was connected to the fallen kingdom, the call of the dungeon deeply engraved into their hearts. The two were like stars to the night sky, needing each other to exist. It was like this for days, months, years, and will continue to be for eras to come.

Hillcrest narrows their eyes – though they’ve been in dungeons since they were but a foal, this cave looked older than any other they have seen before, visibly different from the rest. Adjusting the grip of their teeth on the lantern, the black tobiano Courser carefully steps forward, with a bit of uncertainty in their walk. Raising the light to the wall, they stop in their tracks, their hazel eyes widening; feeling as if a thousand stars just burst right behind their eyelids, swirling the colourful feeling of excitement in their brain, covering their thoughts. The Courser stands in one spot, gaze taking in the done with rustic dye drawing on the wall. The bodies of the Coursers are depicted in a crude manner, but it doesn’t serve to discourage Hillcrest and only makes them interested even more – this was better than any kind of gold or various types of shiny treasure.

It was a testament to every Courser’s past, present and future.

Their heart began to beat faster – hazel eyes took in every detail of the wall painting, the oddly-proportioned bodies… running in a herd. There were always Coursers. There were always horses with a yearning for the dungeon, hearing its call. They were the same as they were – one of the painted Coursers even looked similar to them, with a black and white body, although it was hard to tell the exact markings. A small smile started spreading on Hillcrest’s muzzle, as they were enchanted by the depiction – ancestors, predecessors… whoever the horses in the painting were, they were the past, Hillcrest’s past, maybe even decades, eras before Hillcrest first stepped their hooves into the dungeons. And they were like Hillcrest, too; their lives as Coursers, the call of the dungeon deep inside their hearts… the horses from back then experienced it, too.

There were so many thoughts inside Hillcrest’s mind, that they could only place down their lantern nearby, making sure it’d light up the depiction nicely enough. Hillcrest took a few steps back, gaze still glued to the wall, hooves tapping against the cold floor subconsciously in excitement. The depiction had to be done by the Coursers way back in the past… especially since it was visible by the age of the cave they were in, and the rustic approach. How did they make dyes back then? Did they think about anyone discovering their work in the future? Their descendants, that’d one day stumble upon this painting and be reminded of the shared goal in every Courser’s heart? Running together in a herd… united in their purpose. How many Coursers took part in painting it?

Hillcrest leaned their head down, grabbing their lantern – they should continue their exploration, as much as they began to love this old cave and would love to stay indefinitely to study it. But now… they had a new goal. They’re going to find their own dyes, their own herd of friends… and make their own depiction, of the Coursers of present times.