“Is, how you say, play for the infants.”

“That why you’re sweating?”

“I do not sweat.”

Frisk grinned, flicking her own damp forelock out of her eyes, “Sure.”

Smudge and Tamsin exchanged an uncertain look, as if trying to decide if it would be better to intervene or leave them to whatever this was. “Well, you were both awesome!” Tamsin decided on, as Smudge shook his head to stop them, both mares glanced his way before returning their attention to each other.

“We can settle this with something more challenging, perhaps?”

“Hey, why don’t we – “

“Whatcha got in mind?”

“Oh wow, Faithful looks – “

“Do you see?”

Tonnerre stomped a hoof where the apparition had disappeared after a final, powerful kick from Frisk and revealed yet another Tome.

“History, she repeats.”

Smudge sighed, Tamsin grinned, and Frisk smirked.

“You’re on.”

–

The atmosphere was far more jubilant on their second summoning.

Faithful wound around the four them, ducking and weaving beneath each Courser as his tail wagged high like a banner. Musca clung gently to the hound’s neck ruff, choosing instead to be an accessory to the festivities than taking the effort to participate. Vex, on the other hand, fluttered softly above Frisk, eyes bright as their chosen.

Tamsin pranced in a circle around Smudge, whose mane had come loose in the frenzy of their adventure, “Think there will be more this time?” They said, smile wide as they nudged against the other bay’s shoulder, “Or maybe it’ll have a whole body, reinforcements ya know?” Smudge barked a laugh, humorless and horrified, “I hope not.”

“What do you mean?”

There was a pause, as Smudge examined the question. He hadn’t meant to say it, not really, he’d meant to agree and perhaps mimic some of Frisk’s bravado. That’s what he should have done. Instead he offered a weary smile to his friend, “I’m not sure.” The darker bay nodded rapidly, “I’m never sure.”

Smudge smile grew and cracked into a grin, his tension melting into earnest laughter, as he began to stomp his hooves with something that approached joy, “Yeah.” Tamsin wasn’t sure what they’d said, but replied with their own grin matching Smudge’s movements.

As before, the light of their fire guttered down to the eerie glow of embers, an unnatural wind fluttering through the corridor as the Skull Appeared.

–

“Faithful, heel!”

The hound had no interest in Smudge’s command, not even bothering to toss a look over his shoulder as he charged down the narrow pathway the apparition had fled down.

“ABIRE”  

The ancient language that reverberated off the hollow bone, an absent tongue making the pathetic sound, was undeniably a please for mercy. This ancient thing, once so terrible and great, had been reduced to no more than competition between headstrong Coursers.

Frisk came to a sudden stop, the skittering of her hooves across loose ground eliciting no more than a glance from the weld courser at her side.

“If the dog kills it, who wins?”

Tonnerre tossed her head, snorting at the question, “You will be defeated by a dog?”

She took advantage of the momentary hesitation, breaking into a gallop as she drew her curved sword, the putrid green glow glinting off it as the skull attempted to increase its distance. Frisk swore, stomping one hoof before following suit, her more agile form allowing her to gain on the larger courser.

Faithful glanced over his shoulder at the commotion, tripping over his feet with the movement, and skidding on the rubble. The pair charged past him, leaving Smudge and Tamsin to follow-up at the rear.

“You know,” Tamsin said thoughtfully, “I don’t think this is very fair. It’s … “ they silently counted the number of their party, “It’s 7 on one. 8 if you count the sword.”

Smudge gave a weary sigh, “Yeah. Yeah. I think we are gonna be here a while.”

Ahead of them, the chase continued, as ancient and petty a rivalry as between the humans and horses who had come so long before them.

History repeats herself.