Kalma
Getting the team back together was surprisingly easy. Both Tommy and Frankie were lucky in their slide downwards had ended with both of them unharmed.

Frankie was very slimy, but unharmed. Surprisingly, even Joaquin had survived the stumble without any injuries. Tommy himself had a bit more balanced ride downward, managing to stay on his feet the whole way down and keep his torch from going out. Frankie had been super whiny once he reached him, but Tommy ignored it all - he was more concerned that his travel companion was uninjured. Of course, he didn't say it out loud - he just walked around Frankie with the torch out to give him a once-over. He had little scrapes from the less than stellar fall and landing, but no broken bones or other diving-stopping injuries were taken in.

To his dismay, Wraith was being actually helpful - his weird slime and sludge ate a way upwards for them, back to the chamber they had been at. The slide they had taken down was not a way to go back up again, it was much too slippery and unstable to go back up. Tommy nudges Frankie gently towards the newly made path upwards, letting the small Courser go forward first.

"You go first, and I will help you from behind. One step at a time - find your footing first. I'm right behind. You won't fall again." His tone was final and firm, but there was a lace of reassurance in it too. He wasn't going to leave Frankie behind, and if he faltered he would be there to catch him. He watched Joaquin take the track first, being small and lithe, it was easy for him to get up and out back to the platform.

Tommy let Frankie take his time moving upwards, focusing on Frankie for most of their trek upwards - at times, he would glance at Wraith. He hated that he was being helpful, because that meant he would stick around. Tommy knew without asking that the creature would join them, whether he wanted or not. He was being helpful for now, but Tommy had to wonder if there were limits to his helpfulness.

mvseratii
The pillow of slime at the bottom had done a fantastic job of absorbing the impact. Even if it were disgusting beyond belief, Frankie was thankful for it; not only had it saved him from any severe injury, but both of his companions - Joaquin, who stands frozen in shock and covered in an alarming sheet of sludge, and Tommy, who managed to surf his way down on all four feet - appear unharmed at first glance. The only thing that took a damaging hit was Frankie's ego.

With a vigorous shake that rids him of most of the sticky slime, he manages to find enough of a footing to haul himself back up onto trembling legs. Joaquin does the same but isn't as successful, the weight of the slime too heavy for his small body, and instead resigns himself to pushing through it until it breaks open and he's born again into a slime-free world.

"I'm never going on dives with you again, pendejo," the fox spits at him.

When the fear leaves him, a new one takes its place. This new fear isn't as intense as the last and isn't concerned with them being stuck in a slime pit for all of eternity because this fear doesn't belong to him: it belongs to Tommy, full up to the brim with such an intense worry that Frankie can feel it spark across his skin when they touch.

He keeps his steps deliberate as he traces the path the obsidian slime has built for them, leaning a portion of his weight into Tommy's shoving chest just to make sure he had the support if he were to misstep again. A step, pause, the contemplative tip-tap of where to put his foot next, another step, glance back at Tommy to make sure he was getting along well. If Tommy wasn't going to leave him behind then Frankie wasn't going to leave Tommy behind, either.

Frankie finally makes it to the top of the incline when Logue, pacing back at forth at the end on anxious feet, manages to latch his teeth into one of his leather shoulder straps and gives a mighty yank to pull his companion up to safety. Wraith, however, hadn't waited around to see if they made it out alive.

Kalma
Tommy held his promise, staying right behind Frankie as they move upwards. He tried to push his worry back, but every time he felt Frankie tense in front of him, felt his step get a little wary, Tommy was readying to take on Frankie's whole weight on himself. He stayed close, offering light from his torch and nodding, encouraging Frankie to keep going. They needed to get back up, back on the way and find something worthwhile.

When he saw Logue pulling Frankie up, a wave of relief washed over him - he knew Frankie was safe now, on solid ground again. Next to someone he could trust him with. Tommy made his way up on his own, denying Logue's wordless offer of help up to the chamber. When finally on the solid chamber grounds with Logue and Frankie, he let his whole body have a good shake through. Shaking off the worry, the look from Wraith when he had dived downwards after Frankie and the remains of slime he had landed in.

He gave a little nod to Logue, then turning his attention back to Frankie.

"If your legs carry, we should keep moving. This is no place to make camp," he says with an even tone, lowering his head and giving Frankie's haunches a little nudge. Encouragement, will to continue. He knew the little stallion was still shaken, when his muzzle touched Frankie's fur he swore he felt it run through his own body, like a flash of lightning in a dark night. Maybe he could carry some of Frankie's burden this way, help him find his feet metaphorically so they could continue on their way.

He was glad Wraith wasn't there, but somehow he felt he wasn't far either. Something of him loomed in the space, and as much as Tommy tried, he couldn't shake the feeling off him.

Looking at the way forward, he snorts and steadies himself, looking at Frankie and Logue, making sure they were ready to move forward as well. He knew Logue was ready, as he was lucky not to get send downward spiral like Frankie, but he was sure Logue was familiar with the perils of the dungeons as well. Best they could do now was to go forward, and hopefully find something worth their stumble into slime.

He made a mental note to help Frankie clean off once they would find either a good campsite or maybe a clean source of water. He took a sharp breath through his nostrils, taking few steps forward.

"How about I lead and Logue holds the back? You can grab the edge of my cloak to hold," he says to Frankie, trying to sound neutral about it. He wanted to hold the stallion against his side, take each stride together, but that was an unrealistic goal and mayhaps a little overprotective on his part. However, if Frankie held on to his cloak, he could be next to Tommy's hind and more protected that way and if he were to have another unsure step, Tommy would be able to react to it much faster. He wouldn't let him fall again like that again; he would rather fall together than watch Frankie disappear into the dark.

They had a long way to go in the cavern, with no end in sight.

mvseratii
The barely-there light offered by Tommy's torch is nearly snuffed out by the oppressive haze that lays blanketed at the bottom of the pit, making the journey back up to the top harder than it needed to be. Without the certainty of where to put his feet, every step came with a second guess. Would this step get him somewhere or will he slip on another puddle of slime and undo all of their progress thus far? But Tommy was solid behind him, both in physicality and in mind; if for a second he was unsure what to do next, if he didn't think he could continue, Tommy was there to tell him it was alright, you've got this, we're in it together.

When he makes it to the top, the first thing he tries to do is shake the slime off of him. A majority of it sloughs off and lands with a wet sound at his feet but parts of it have already dried and encrusted, refusing to come off no matter how hard he tried to shake them off. His expression crinkles, only the slight shrivel of his nose, before he gives a forlorn look to his companions.

"Imagine if we set up camp here," he says, opting to make light of the situation. Logue's glare feels like twin daggers.

But he'd be happy to never spend another second in this slimy cave, judging by the way he presses in close to Tommy's side and tries to give him a nudge to get going. As gracious as he was to have Logue accompanying them on this trip, the only one of them that'd been brave enough to descend into the pit to rescue him had been Tommy, so if anyone where to keep him safe until they made it back to base camp it would be him. So he sticks close, ensuring that his shoulder stayed permanently glued to the courser's side.

Up ahead, once the haze lifts and the cavern is filled with the warmth of torchlight once more, he can see Wraith waiting patiently for them, standing alone in the center of the grotto with only its obsidian slime to accompany him, who ripples like the ocean waves at its feet. Wraith greets them silently with just the slight incline of its head, milky white eyes never blinking.

"You must be quiet up ahead," the pale courser explains, "it slumbers for now but it will be angry if you wake it."

"What the hell is it?" Frankie implores before anyone else can get a word in.

Wraith doesn't reply.

Kalma
Frankie's awful joke about camping gets a quiet snort from Tommy, and disapproving glare from Logue. The experienced merc was happy to hold the back end for them, a wordless gaze exchanged between him and Tommy. The dark grey stallion chose not to read anything to it, knowing Logue wasn't judgemental type, but maybe asking a question Tommy wasn't too keen on answering. Frankie seemed to heed his advice, glued to Tommy's side the moment they started moving again.

Torches well lit and walking at a steady pace, Tommy finds his confidence again and settles to his usual calm walk. He had to keep his head down less the deeper they went, the cavern opening up finally in height to give him space to have his head slightly higher. He was glad not to keep snaking and keeping his head low; it was starting to give him a crick in the neck. To his annoyance, when they reached the central part of the grotto, Wraith was waiting them - Tommy had been right, the equine spirit was never far off them. He figured, had they run into trouble sooner, Wraith would've been there moment before to tell them to be careful in his cryptic way.

The undulating dark mass at his feet made Tommy's stomach turn in the most unpleasant way, and in the added light he could see it so much more better than before. There was something uneasy about it, in addition to the weird symbiotic relationship Wraith seemed to have with it. Cryptic advice, once again.

Tommy takes in a long breath, his sides expanding, then contracting as he lets out the breath. He stops for a moment, taking in their surroundings and the creature ahead, Frankie asking the question likely in all of their minds. What he first thought to be an entrance, some sort of lightsource, was actually alive. The pale skin was great contrast to everything else in the space, standing out like a sore thumb. Yet, it's large size made it a formidable and likely very dangerous.

They best take the advice given by Wraith, after all it had shown to be useful before. While the pale equine stayed silent, Tommy turned to look at Frankie, speaking in a low voice to make sure to keep as quiet as possible.

"It's some sort of creature. Best not go poking at it. Things that big... They don't much care for things smaller than them," he says with wisdom from years of diving, albeit he hadn't run into this particular thing before. He wasn't entirely sure what exactly it was, and he would prefer not to find out, either. They needed to be very careful and very quiet. He turned back towards Wraith, eyeing him.

"I take it you know the way, then." It was less of an question and more statement, telling Wraith to walk in front to show them a way past the creature. The less disturbance they could make, the better. Before moving forward, he turned to look at Frankie again, stretching out until he touched Frankie's muzzle with his own. A little reassurance, that they would make it forward safely again.

"Stay on the left and I'll be between you and... whatever that is. Calm and quiet." He practically whispers, hoping calm and quiet was something Frankie could repeat to himself while they moved to help himself focus and stay quiet. With a final look to Logue to make sure the mercenary was ready to follow along with them, Tommy turns to look into the direction Wraith had moved towards.

mvseratii
In the opposite chamber, cloaked in a thick blanket of nothing, the crouched figure of a cave creature is barely visible.

A perfect example of how cruel the underworld could be, every ridge of its crooked bones make up grotesque mountains underneath its pale, hairless skin, twisted and gnarled by a network of scars given to it by creatures no doubt a lot more formidable than this thing was. It stands stock still, perhaps in slumber like Wraith said, but Frankie watches in abject horror as it twitches unnaturally to look in their direction. With every heaving breath it takes comes with a full body shudder, its muscles convulsing until the arms curl up towards its chest and its head cocks to the side.

Frankie does his best to hold his breath. Could it hear them breathe? Surely not if Wraith's rasped instruction wasn't enough to disturb it. Carefully, he shifts his weight to the side until he's pressed up against Tommy's side, barricading himself away from the wretched creature almost selfishly; it were better for the thing to go after someone else that wasn't him and, well, both Tommy and Logue had the experience of combat under their belt.

"Are you calling me short?" Frankie whispers, trying his best to sound offended. It falls flat. Worse still, it sounds like he's trying not to turn this into some sort of joke. "Sorry not all of us were born the size of behemoths!"

Unconcerned with their petty squabbling, Wraith turns away to give the creature a lengthy look-over as he thinks over their next course of action. It doesn't look to be in slumber like originally thought. It remains crouched in the corner of the chamber but it looks like it's ready to pounce on them the first chance it gets. It has to know they're there, for its head twitches perversely with every sound that resounds off the cave walls, from the steady drip, drip, drip of rainwater runoff to the distant chirps of painted bats looking for a meal.

Without being prompted, the black ooze that lay stagnant at Wraith's feet stretches out into a carpet across the craggily stone, and without further explanation or any hesitation, Wraith steps over it and continues its way towards the cave's entry. His hoof steps are silent as his form retreats into the darkness.

"Right, calm and quiet," Frankie says. "Calm and quiet. Calm and quiet."

Kalma
The creature shifted in it's spot, pale skin shifting and muscles underneath moving. It was a grotesque sight, but far from the worst Tommy had seen in his travels. He had never seen a being like this, a mess of limbs and completely hairless, the scars and marks on it's skin were a sign it had gone through a lot in it's who knows how long life and survived. They should not try and fight it, if it came to that - they should just flee. Being so large was an advantage, but also a disadvantage; the Coursers could fit into a small passage to escape if it came to it.

Tommy was very quiet when the creature moved, making sure to breathe as silently as possible. There was a moment there where only noises in the space were those of the creature, shifting in it's spot and the other sounds of the dungeon. Water, slimes moving somewhere in the distance and the quiet squelching of the black ooze moving to wherever Wraith wanted it to move.

Or so Tommy assumed, at least, that Wraith was in charge - maybe it was the other way around. It was an odd thought, to think that the ooze was the sentience and the spirit above it was a mouthpiece, luring Coursers to whatever faith the ooze wanted them to meet.

Tommy woke up from his distracted track of thought when Frankie slid right up against his side, slotting against it perfectly. They were thick as thieves now, and feeling Frankie almost press to him made Tommy feel more grounded, more whole. The moment was fleeting though, as Frankie couldn't keep quiet for more than a moment, trying to make light of the situation and falling flat again.

"You are short." he says matter of factly, shaking his head lightly at the comment about behemoths. Tommy wasn't that tall - sure, perhaps taller than average and freakishly tall compared to someone as short as Frankie, but he was no behemoth. Even if someone stacked three Tommies on top of each other, the creature would still be taller.

Steady breaths, they move forward side to side, Logue right behind them. Calm and quiet, and this would be over sooner rather than later. Surely so. They would be okay. Frankie would be okay, Tommy's mind reminds him. He seemed to care more about that than being fine himself. This was not the time or place to put thought to why he felt the need to protect Frankie at all costs, even detriment to his own health. It wouldn't come to that, surely. They will be fine.

Calm and quiet, he repeats in his mind as he keeps walking, as silently as he was capable of, with Frankie right on his side - where he belonged.