"Well you've sure gotten yourself into a fine pickle."

Even wedged with his back to the sultry voice, Luca knows he's in trouble the moment he hears the other courser approach. He starts squirming, trying to back out, inch forward, do anything to free himself from the narrow slanted tunnel he thought he could fit through. "Yes, great!" he whinnies, "you've identified there's a problem! Now help me!"

The other courser laughs. Laughs! As if it wasn't bad enough that Luca's musclehead chaperones had abandoned him as soon as they reached the surface level tunnels, conveniently forgetting to tell him the way out before they dove back in, as if he needed insult to injury in his dire time of need—

"What, and ruin this view?"

Luca stops squirming. The creak of gears resounds in his head as his brain rattles to life, slowly putting two and two together... Oh right. This was what he was good for. Manipulating meathead dungeon barbarians to his own ends.

Right. "Well..." He wriggles again, flicking his tail and shimmying his behind, hooves clattering on the water-damp stone. "I can promise you the view is much better from the front."

The other courser laughs again, and Luca tells himself it's not an unkind laugh, as many might make in a moment like this. The stranger seems amused, maybe interested... "You don't say? It must be a mighty fine front view, then..." Luca almost melts with relief, but the courser continues, "have to say, I'm inclined to admire for a bit longer, though. Save the best for last, yeah?"

Luca can't help it, stomping his hoof he huffs, "You brute!" and ruins all pretense of manipulation. "Come on, I'll give you whatever you damn well want, just help me out here!" He starts writhing against the narrow walls again, trying to press forward through the tunnel and away.

"Whoa now, not so hasty," the hooves of the stranger clatter closer, and he can all but feel the eyes on him. "Anything, you say?"

"Yes, anything!" He doesn't actually have much, but he can always get something to repay the effort. "Just get me out!"

There's a low thoughtful hum, and he almost feels like screaming, but after a moment he hears, "As you wish," and blunt teeth seize him by the tail.

With a yank, and an unsticking that feels like the pop of cork from a bottle, Luca is yanked back into the room he started from. The sudden rush of cool, slightly-less-stale air filling his lungs makes Luca dizzy, and for a moment, he forgets everything. Until he meets the curious, amused eyes of the dark courser towering over him.

"Name's Denver," the monster says. "Now, about that anything..."