The group had moved on from their prior incident, much to the dismay of Terrence. He wished to call it quits, return to the surface.. however Ken insisted they persist and while that wasn't a good idea, according to Terrence, both Logue and Fetch had agreed to follow. Returning to the surface, much less alone and without loot, was something the dark courser couldn't bear the thought of.

"Look! There's a.. cleaver? It's embedded in that.. skull?" A voice would ring out, breaking Terrence's thought process off. It was Fetch's voice, someone he deemed strange but valuable to their party. Fetch's forelock swept to the side as they tilted their head, gaze focused on the skull.

"We should leave it be, it could be-" Terrence would start, only to be cut off by Logue. Curse the brindled stallion. "We should investigate, at least." His voice would ring out, casting a glance towards Terrence. A flustering feeling would rise in the dark courser's chest, a sense of having to defend his pride.

Before he could manage to respond, Logue had followed Fetch up the wall that led up to what appeared to be a throne that the skeleton was draped around.. wait, when did Fetch get up there? and why did Logue follow? He didn't get a moments peace, he swore.

Ken would toss his head, getting his long and heavy forelock out of his face. He'd take in the scene for a moment before he'd move over to pull the cleaver from the skull, bracing his front hooves against what must've been the forehead of the creature, jaws wrapping around the hilt of the cleaver.

This would send Terrence into a panic, leaning back as he'd stare at the large, golden courser. "Hey, stop that. You don't know-"

Crash.

Rumble.

Fetch's gaze would quickly move to the courser's below, while Logue's would flicker to the throne, taking note of the banner behind it. A dragon. Fuck. Terrence had been right, they shouldn't have fucked with it.

Ken's wisp, Keys, would start sweeping around the golden courser, trying to warn him as blue would light up the scene. A flame building in the dragon's ribcage, embers seeping out of it's nose. It's eyes, or rather what appeared to be eyes, focusing on Ken.

"Ken, drop it! We have to go! We cannot fight an undead fucking dragon!"
Terrence's voice would be filled with panic, trying to urge the courser to move.

Ken would cast a glance towards his panicked companion, hauling back as the cleaver would crack free from the skull.

Fight.
Ken thought.

We have to Fight.