Corven settled next to Elrim the way a mountain sighs after a landslide, eerily silent after a flurry of movement. The smaller cave that they had settled in felt tiny in his presence, the way he stretched and shifted, adjusting himself to be smaller. There wasn't anything small about him. 

Mismatched eyes watched him intently, unmoving, unjudging, simply focused, and Elrim turned to look away, setting his gaze instead on the fire crackling in front of them. He watched the way the shadows danced, the slumbering bodies of their two dungeon companions just out of its reach. The light danced in the quiet underground air that bordered on stale. What air flow there was down this tunnel was more limited, hidden amongst cracks and stone, taken in quiet breaths as if hiding from the dangers that lurked down the tunnels.

"Been a while since I've seen you," Corven's gravelly voice broke the silence, barely above a whisper, but clear as anything he had ever heard. "Last I heard, you had become a monster."

Elrim's ear twitched as he settled more comfortably into his spot, eyes still fixed on the fire, wishing that the crackling had been loud enough to burn away his words. Wishing that he could do as the smokeless fire did and disappear at the thoughts.

"I don't recall us ever meeting," Elrim settled for instead. Shadows danced in the corner of his vision, memories threatening to take shape in the light. A thundering of hooves. The smell of blood. Screaming at their side. A warm body pressed against his as he hit the ground, urging him back up. The look of betrayal in another's eyes as a pressure built up in his mind, and a sword pierced through their chest. He tightly pressed his eyelids shut for a moment, waiting until the silence cleared the phantom sounds. Looking too closely would mean remembering, and his body shuddered at the thought. He longed to remember as viscerally as his mind shied away from it. 

"Ah, must be mistaking you for someone else." Corven's words were an olive branch. Elrim knew them for what they were. "The Courser I'm remembering looked a bit different. Had your markings, though, must be a relative." Another quiet pause, allowing the dust to settle. Allowing him to settle.  "He said that was where he defied death once. I'd wager it was more than once." Corven's head moved, gaze tilting towards the fire. "Anyway, he would have warned me of the creature down in these parts. He called them husks then, probably not their actual name, but he was elusive like that. Ever heard of them?"

Husks. Flashes of creatures with burnt flesh, giant and hairless, corrupted by old magic, devouring flesh. The fire reflected in his eyes as he shook his head twice. 

"Can't say I have." An ache deep in his chest. Had he known someone who had been corrupted once? Had he been corrupted at some point and recovered? He remembered coursers with magical abilities laughing around a fire such as this. There had been almost a dozen, he believed, but the more that he tried to picture their faces, the more they disappeared. Long gone to depths he couldn't fathom, each of them growing more and more distorted as he thought about them. 

"One of the lucky ones then. Horror stories, really. He had a lot of them. Best not tell the kids."

"Mmm." Quill would be nervous by it. He'd laugh it off, and say that there was no such thing, but Elrim knew best. Emmery, well. He didn't know the younger courser enough to say one way or the other. They were quieter. Never had much to say. 

Thump!

The slam of something hard against stone on the wall beside them stirred the two slumbering coursers, rousing them from sleep as they peered into the shadows alert. Elrim was getting to his feet, Corven remaining settled on the ground. 

"What was that?" Quill asked quietly, uncurling from around Walter as the goose remained quiet, beady eyes looking into the gloom. 

"I'm sure it's nothing!" Corven said in a chipper tone, voice quieter as he watched Elrim take a step out into the corridor. "At least nothing that our friend here can't handle."

Emmery looked at the green ooze sliding across the floor behind the pale courser, looking at the stone wall beside them, and then out the door. He could only see part of Elrim's body as he peered around the corner of the corridor. He noticed the way he stilled, and the way that he tensed, tucking back slowly, hooves not making a sound. 

"Should we set out a little early?" Emmery inquired, shooting Corven a sympathetic look. The other courser wouldn't have slept yet, it had been their turn to keep watch. 

Elrim stepped into the room silent as a ghost, his eyes on the fire for a moment before he looked at Corven and Quill. "Good idea. It's something scurrying down the hall. We have time before it gets closer. Nothing to worry about."

Quill breathed out softly in relief as he started to gather his things. "Alright, well, let's get packing, yeah Walter?" If Elrim said it was safe, then it had to be safe. 

If Elrim had anything to say about Corven's knowing eyes on him, he didn't comment. Instead, the mountain of a courser waited as the others started to prepare. 

Elrim had a feeling that the Puck knew that he was lying. He had spoken of the horrors in these corridors as if he had experienced them. If Corven truly knew him, and what he said was true… Well, perhaps he was protecting the others from him.