The group pressed on, Castalla keeping an unrelenting pace despite the dull ache in her foreleg and the blood now crusted to it. Every so often Karlach would cast her a concerned glance, which she would brush off with a tight smile and a quick press to the red mare's side. She'd never been one to dwell on injuries - if she could stand, she could fight and that was all that mattered. The cruel years of her life had bred into her an instinct to hide and deny any weakness, however costly that might be.

"There's something ahead," she muttered, mostly to herself but still audible in the silence that reigned supreme over the shadows and the gloom. Slowing her pace down, she lowered her head to regard the glint of liquid caught in the flicker of their torches. In the cracks and guttered grooves running like veins through the worn, cobbled ground, a dark liquid coalesqued. It was thick and gloopy, gleaming with an odd hue.

"Let's follow it," Wolf offered brightly, his enthusiasm at odds with the dark, perilous dungeon. Aislinn and Karlach followed at a distance, tracing the branches of liquid that stemmed like some dark tree. Autumn and Emberclaw followed, the former taking great care to avoid standing in the ooze. Only Beaky paused when he noticed Castalla still staring at the congealed essence, gliding to land next to her and huffing slightly as he pressed his head into her leg. "I'm coming," she murmured, still unable to tear her gaze away. Faint hints of purple, red and blue seemed to mingle with the oil-dark liquid, as though it were mixed with magic.

The fluid map led them further down the passage, deeper, deeper, deeper, until they found themselves in a circular chamber. The air was musty and odd, pressing tightly against their chests with every breath. At the centre of the room, bathed in the dancing glow of their torches, lay a stone sarcophagus - uncovered and waiting, as though it had been expecting them all along.

It was from this that the dark liquid flowed, the unearthly lifeblood of some dead yet still exsanguinating creature. Castalla's heart hammered in her ears as she drew closer. Something was wrong, definitely, undeniably, but she still found herself placing her hooves on the lowest lip of the sarcophagus and leaning up, up, up to peer into the crumbling casket.

"Cast, maybe don't look in the creepy coffin," Karlach warned, but it was too late.

The clotted liquid formed some kind of scabbed surface where it coagulated on the stone, as monstrous as it was dark.

"What the hells is that?" Wolf breathed, reaching over to look next to Castalla.

Without really intending it, Castalla found herself raising a hoof slowly, reaching into the shadow box. Just a little further, just a little closer.