The deafening buzz hit Varin first—like a thousand angry whispers swelling into a roar. Her heart leapt into her throat as the cave bugs burst from a crevice in the wall, their wings beating in a furious swarm.

“AHHH!” she shrieked, flailing wildly in the most undignified way possible, her carefully curated composure disintegrating in an instant. She spun in a desperate attempt to avoid the onslaught of wings and biting mandibles. The air around her was thick with them, their musty scent of old earth and rotting fungi clogging her nose. How in the stars’ name did I disturb these things?!

Panic overtook thought. Varin kicked out with her legs, thrashing to dislodge the bugs that clung to her coat. A few managed to crawl into her mane, their prickling legs skittering across her skin, sending shivers racing down her spine. Her heart pounded furiously, her stomach twisted in revulsion.

This is a nightmare. An absolute nightmare!

In her frantic movements, she caught a glimpse of Nidhogg out of the corner of her eye. The pygmy drake was perched atop a nearby rock, his green scales gleaming faintly in the dim light, ruby-red eyes watching her with something between mild curiosity and disdain. His wings fluttered half-open, as if he was considering whether to take flight or stay and witness the spectacle.

“Nidhogg, help!” Varin's voice wobbled as she tried to shake off the bugs crawling across her face.

The drake blinked slowly, cocking his head to one side, his tail flicking lazily. Varin could practically hear his thoughts: This again? He let out a low, unimpressed growl, as if weighing whether she was worth the trouble. He still didn’t fully trust her—understandable, given how she had plucked him from his cozy dungeon hideaway and dragged him into her chaotic world of near-death escapades.

Varin blew out a breath, only to have it send more bugs flying into her mouth. She gagged, spitting furiously. “Ugh, disgusting!” Her skin crawled with the sensation of tiny legs scuttling across her fur, and the incessant buzz filled her ears, almost drowning out her thoughts.

Okay, think, think, think, she scolded herself. These bugs weren’t dangerous—just revolting. But that didn’t make them any less horrifying. The weight of the swarm pressed in, their wings brushing her fur in a dizzying blur. She squeezed her eyes shut, desperately trying to block out the crawling, wriggling sensation.

And then, through the fog of panic, an idea flashed—a reckless, stupid idea, but when had that ever stopped her?

“Nidhogg,” she gasped, turning her head just enough to see him, “burn them.”

The drake’s ruby eyes narrowed, studying her. Varin wasn’t sure if he was considering her request or if he simply found her predicament amusing. Either way, there was a long, painful pause before Nidhogg spread his wings with an indignant huff.

“Not too much!” she added hastily, eyes wide. “Just a little—I’m still here!”

With what could only be described as a snort of exasperation, Nidhogg puffed out his small chest. The air around them shifted as he opened his mouth, sending a controlled jet of flame into the swarm. The heat washed over Varin, searing the air, and she felt the faint singe as fire crackled through the swarm, burning away the bugs clinging to her coat.

The insects recoiled, scattering in all directions, their angry buzz dissipating as they fled the fiery assault. Varin let out a shaky breath of relief, her body trembling from the aftermath of her panic. Her coat was singed in a few places—nothing too serious, but enough to make her wince.

Nidhogg fluttered down beside her, folding his wings with a satisfied snort. He glanced up at her, his red eyes gleaming with a mixture of pride and that infuriating you’re welcome expression.

Varin groaned, wiping her face with one hoof, flicking off the last remnants of the bugs. “You couldn’t have done that sooner?” she muttered, though her tone carried more exhaustion than real anger. She was just glad it was over.

Nidhogg gave her a slow blink, the long, deliberate kind that made it clear he had been in no rush to save her from her own mistake. You disturbed them, not me. His tail flicked lazily, and he settled back down on his rock as if nothing had happened.

“Fine,” she huffed, rolling her eyes. “Point taken. Maybe I shouldn’t have poked around that crevice, but how was I supposed to know a swarm was in there?” She flicked her mane, trying to shake off the last of the crawling sensation. “Besides,” she added, voice brightening, “we got through it, didn’t we?”

The drake said nothing, only casting her a sidelong glance before settling back into his usual watchful stance. His small frame radiated a quiet air of superiority, as if to remind her that, once again, he had been the more sensible one in their partnership. Varin smiled despite herself. Nidhogg might not fully trust her yet, but there was something oddly reassuring in his aloof presence.

Varin straightened, smoothing down her singed coat with a flick of her tail. The adrenaline still hummed beneath her skin, but the panic had passed. The dungeon was full of unexpected dangers, but that was part of the appeal, wasn’t it? Every new challenge was a reminder that she was alive, that she could handle whatever the depths threw at her.

And as her gaze drifted back to Nidhogg, perched regally on his rock with his wings tucked neatly at his sides, Varin couldn’t help but smile. He may have been prickly, distrustful, and slow to act, but he hadn’t left her side.

Maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t as alone as she sometimes felt.

Taking a deep breath, Varin tossed her mane with renewed confidence. “Onward, then,” she said, with a flair of theatrics in her voice. “No more surprises, please.”

Nidhogg gave her a sidelong glance, his expression unreadable, but she could swear there was a flicker of amusement in his ruby eyes as he rose into the air, his wings humming softly as he hovered beside her.

Together, they pressed on.