In a world so plastered in grey, so drab and lacking of spark, one would have imagined a 'curious cave of lush green inside the first drop in the dungeon' could have ignited some much needed spirit inside the likewise ironically grey stallion. The promise of beauty; a feast for the eyes and heart for every weary soul plagued by the vile and vulgar cruelty of the world, was supposed to be found within these caverns. The deeper you went, the more it would call its' would-be adventurers to come and lay rest after your fill was met. And your 'fill' would always be met, eventually; no matter who or what you are, the dungeon would claim you, in the end.

'You may come an' go, but yeh can never truly leave, heheh.' The ever so slightly mocking chortle succeeded in its likely intended effect of making the recipient shudder in some form or another; unease, indignation, a threat?
'Noh, only a promise. An' not by meh. Ahm jus' an observer. Too cowardly I was to venture in them caves, even when riches came back in droves. Nawh, I lay fine just here, on the outside. Tendin' to me own biznis, 'appy with meh lot.' With someone so seemingly content with 'their lot' they sure seemed interested in what others were doing, or about to do. Supposedly but a well-meaning citizen of.. the outside of the dungeon. Hmph, how considerate of them. How considerate those eyes stared deeply into his soul, an edge of dare plain as day in them, while the rest of his facade kept their deceit of.. good-intention.

It didn't matter. No old fool who couldn't even take a starring role in their own life would stammer the resolve of this likewise foolish, young courser. Whether he died in this 'beautiful yet dangerous' dungeon or 'made a living' as some other coursers had gossiped would only matter to himself, as all things should. While Diomedes, the starring courser still echoed breaths he would lead his own tale and damn whom or whatever creature, being, entity, or inanimate dungeon thought would or could change this stubborn horse. He was destined for something, somethinggreat, something drastic, traumatic, or something else entirely, whatever it was, it was his. And it was in this dungeon.

And if not, he would find it somewhere else. The world had taken what little he already had, and thus he was determined to take something back. To make something out of this... this nothing that was offered thus far. Inaction would lead him only to sit outside of greatness, 'warning' and gleaming at would-be stars and supporting roles of what 'greatness' can bring. A loathsome creature, to be sure. A small part. Barely even that.

With a contemptible snort, Diomedes had graciously thanked the old stallion for his 'wise words of wisdom' and promised to take care on his descent. Perhaps, if he found anything of note, he could share it with him. Share with him the beauty of being within someone truly... something.

Descend he did. His gait was a cautious yet learning walk. His hooves barely clicked on the stoned path that eventually transitioned to the compelling cavern of promise and adventure.. as it laid bare a lustrous, life brimming forest or perhaps jungle like level. Lustrous, he was sure, to every courser but him. His mind oozed a toxic mockery of 'amazement' and 'wows' forming his silent mouth and he gleamed his environment sceptically, keen eyes glaring for danger. Expecting it. He was cautious even before that old coot from before uttered a word. He was always cautious. The promise given to him had always been a warrant for such. His very name, given to him by his dear, darling mother, warranted such. He had a fate worth fighting. And where better to fight but the very grounds that demanded it?

Suspicious, silent, he trekked onwards; eyes flashing to every movement that so far only belonged to insects and critters that teemed within their supposed home. Par the waterfalls, the crickets and croaks of frogs, toads and.. was that a bird? This level so far seemed to be... empty. Discounting the wildlife, of course. But wildlife, unless of the more dangerous kind, even then quite mundane in comparison to, well, others, was often just that to Diomedes. Wild. Oddly.. predictable. The excitement and daring usually only stemmed from similar beings to his own. Those that went beyond the expectations of... normal.

Regardless, it was to be expected. A dungeon so famous, or infamous, perhaps, was likely already picked clean of valuables or history. Cleaned so far, at least, at the entrance. He need only go further, deeper, descend ever closer to the depths to surely stumble into something more worthy... something that could offer him more power than no mere bauble or trinket ever could. Wealth could lead to great power, yes, but it didn't make you invulnerable. Regretably.

'Home...'
A split shiver streaked down his spine as a voice unlike his own seemed to echo around him. His eyes darted behind him towards the entrance he came from, then around him once more. Who...?
'Home!' Louder, yet still no clearer as to where it came from. Diomedes took a deep breath to try and smell for anything that his eyes seemed to fail to notice. Yet it was a disappointingly similar result.

'Home...'
It was irritating, slightly. Repeating yourself, especially with something so cryptic with a one worded 'home' failed to offer Diomedes any solution to this.. command, or, perhaps, question?

He felt oddly sure that, despite the noise, he was.. alone. No courser or other being of intellect seemed to be around him. It was then he felt the decision to simply reflect the word back in his mind. 'Home???' He repeated. A question to the question. How absurd.

He hadn't noticed it immediately but the ambiance around him before seemed to get more.. fuzzy. Like an ear to a shell or an abandoned badger den, the calls of life seemed to dim around him, while the word 'home' kept repeating back to him. It felt more urgent as it constantly barked its question or demand.

Was this part of the warning that the old stallion mentioned before? The dungeon would claim him? Was this it?

He snorted in amusement. This frogspawn paradise would never be a home for him. It smelt far too musty and... probably other things he would rather not think about. Deciding this auditory 'hallucination' but a mere, yet peculiar, trickery of the dungeon to scare away foal-hearted imbeciles, Diomedes lifted a hoof defiantly and determined himself onwards. But onwards he did not go. At least, not the way he intended it.

The buzzing of the cavern around him leapt from his ears, to his eyes and his very mind. A numb sensation coiled around his feet and slithered up his legs to his very mind as he was seemingly transported to... to.. a field. A very familiar looking field. A regrettably familiar looking field. Yet there was something off. Something not quite right. Was it the continued buzzing that he could barely consciously consider around him, or the ever so faint, mist-like glaze that coated the field before him?

It only took his head to spin, in both actuality and metaphorically, that he realised the glaze of haze was not just present on the field, but in his eyes. It was almost soothing.. warm. It held pleasantness most foreign to the scene. Like a finely fermented apple aged in rose-oak then soaked in honey. And like honey; it came with a sting. A pang of realisation.

"Is this it, then? This is what you want?" He jeered towards the home-caller. His eyes rolling in barely contempt. It would have been more forthright if he didn't find it all so amusing. This play before him was fairly pathetic. Very drone. Another trick for foal-hearts and imbeciles.

"I'm afraid you won't get your desired result from me. This 'home' is not mine, it never was. If this is your offer then I must say I am severely disappointed. Could you not do better for me than you have your frogs and newts?" He tutted, visibly demonstrating his disappointment as if committing to the scene before him. Diomedes was not shy of theatrics. It was but one part he could rely on to ensure a day not entirely wasted, most of the time.

"No, this is no home. Born here, 'raised' here, if you can call it that. But I would never return, and I would thank you to 'return' me back to that cavern. Your attempt, at whatever it was you was trying to do, is trifling at best and insulting at worst." He turned away from the open field wih a flick of his tail and a wide nod of his head. Closing his eyes as if to will whatever magic to happen or recede, he continued to hopefully assure his return.
"But worry not, all will be forgiven if you take me back!" For now he would keep firmly still. Eyes closed but ears alert as they swivelled about for any changes. The buzzing from before became more apparent which held his interest, and in what he deemed as being simply polite he would stay unmoving for but ten counts of clicked hoof and the fog over his mind leisurely left and the sounds of croaks and water thrashing against rocks called to him once more.

Opening brown eyes, he cautiously peered around for perchance a form of that mysterious voice from before and then pushed on when he felt satisfied nothing more was to come of it. Or perhaps from it, would be more accurate.