"Drat!" Yelled Chant. He quickly pushed his legs into the ground and landed himself on flat and safe ground, the other stallion soon meeting him. The both of them glanced down at the darkness below. Whatever was waiting for them down there, it wouldn't have been friendly if they missed.

Reverend sighed with a nervous whinny, looking at the smaller stallion. "Lucky we made that. I'm not so sure we would enjoy having to carry each other out with little reward."

Chant narrowed his gaze at the other, sighing with his chin in the air as he continued down their new path. "Oh please, you are much too big. I would have simply left you behind."

Reverend rolled his eyes before continuing forward. "Aye, and you would've let little Wallace become a very sad snail if ye did."

Chant's tail whipped the air, dangerously close to the other's face as they walked. "I want to hear no more words from you. If we end up getting lost or killed I'll be chewing on your hooves in the afterlife." He then smiled and looked at the small snail resting on his nose. He would not ever hurt this little guy's feelings, and it was obvious. 

"Somehow, I doubt that." Reverend mused. He suddenly stopped next to his companion though at the sound of two unfamiliar voices. In front of the two stallions was a fork in the road. Two paths, two doors, and two faces.

Chant looked at them skeptically. "Bloody magic...I reckon they're gonna trick us into another death trap."

"A death trap? No, no, no. My door promises gold and jewels, the finest riches!" Spoke the smiling face.

"Bah! Don't listen to em. My door contains even more plentiful riches than him. Trust me!" The frowning face.

Chant looked between the two, ears perked upright and forward as he listened to them speak. Or more fittingly, argued. It reminded him of when he was a foal, arguing with his brother about the finer oats to eat. But unfortunately this was not his brother, and eating a tenday old batch of oats was the least of their problems.

Chant huffed, hoof digging into the ground as his eyes flickered between the two. "Must you two endlessly bicker? What's to say me and my friend find neither of your doors beneficial, perhaps it would be better to turn around then, hm?"

Both faces went quiet, the frowning face speaking up first with a moan. "No, you can't! You just got here. Please, please open my door!"

The smiling face rolled its eyes, "oh quit that moaning! With the pathetic cries you give it makes it impossible to believe that your door is any good."

Reverend tilted his chin upward, a hint of smugness in his tone. "Alright, then what is exactly in that door of yours if yer so bold?"

The smiling face went silent, looking at both coursers before clearing its throat. "Only the finest treasures! Gilts, glamor, gold. Enough riches for a king! And there's more to be explored too~"

Reverend hummed, ears perking forward with confidence as he then looked over to the other face. "And why would that happy face think your door is so disappointing in comparison?"

The frowning face was silent for a moment before speaking up. "Common for others to go through his. B-but my door has plenty of goods! Trust me! You'd never lose your chance at a maiden with my trinkets. And more to be found within!:

Chant sighed deeply, obviously tired of the mind games. "Oh shut it! They won't be tellin' us the truth either way! Magic doors, they're made to trick us! Play mind games!"

Reverend rolled his eyes, "perhaps patience is something we can find through the door once we enter. You need it. Now, which door do you choose?"

Chant glared at the other stallions insult, however his attention was brought back to the doors. All he had to choose was left...or right.