Her nares flared as she drew in a deep inhale of the fertile air. The Overgrown Caverns were always such a curious place for her. They were full of life and light yet so dark and mysterious simultaneously, oftentimes obscuring the truth just below a thin layer of dust or leaves. At the same time, Malvolia was convinced that the truths she wished to find couldn't be located on this level. She would have to push forward through the overgrown foliage and pungent air to find the entrances to those deeper areas and her answers. Eyes of silver glanced toward the phantasmal hand wringing its fingers in wait beside her before gesturing with a small bob of her muzzle towards the closest passage.

The hand floated seamlessly through the air before her, leaving a trail of sky-blue mist behind it. Deftly the hands cupped all the low-hanging tendrils of leaves and pulled them to the side for Malovia to venture forward. From organic to inorganic tunnels, this level arguably had the most variety. From carved stone walls to dirt, from root bridges to crumbling ruins, each section at least proved interesting to observe. And she did so, quietly and without betraying expressions.

If anything, she moved as silently as the dungeon existed, leaving behind barely a trace as her hand companion ensured nothing obstructed her path.

What it couldn't move, however, was the giant slime that appeared in the doorway of their next intersection. It watched them approach with its one eye, blinking only once as the Dungeon Courser came up to the sentient ooze. It simply stared at the odd duo, saying and doing nothing outside of quiet observation. An unknown amount of time passed with Malvolia and the slime simply staring at one another, holding eye contact with few breaks. There was always the option of turning around, and not once but twice the phantasmal hand seemed to "glance" back the way they came, but Malvolia seemed to either miss or ignore this.

More and more time passed until, finally, the slime's eye slid along the exterior of its green body and it started to creep down the passage. A film of verdant goo glistened behind it on the floor as it crept at a snail's pace away. Malvolia glanced down to the ooze, then to her hand companion. With a blink of her silver eyes, she seemed to wordlessly pass instructions and the hand went to work picking at the rubble and other random bits and baubles in the tunnel to help provide improvised stepping stones for Malovia. Each brick or nest of leaves provided was another step through the filth, and though the process was painstakingly slow, the ghostly mare made no complaint. They were in no hurry.