Caeou’m looked at Frosting and him back at Caeou’m. The mood was soured.

“We wouldn’t have survived either.” Caeou’m stepped the middle of them trying his best not to take sides but to appease the unsettling atmosphere.

Right after the ground quaked, and with a loud crack, the floor once more began to break apart, sending the horses stumbling back toward the edge of the abyss. Catching Caeou’m by surprise, and in a hurried momentum they all moved to push Caeou’m away as soon as they could. Beetle and Frosting tugged at his mane, and Freidor tried kicking him to the other side. Caeou’m was secured. Freidor took pace to wonder around the room. The scare was too big, and it didn’t help with the previous tension. Beetle’s legs gave up and he laid down near the edge of the opening, muzzle hanging, thinking about that dark pit again. The possibility of what could have gone so wrong scared him, and the earlier disagreement still hung unspoken between them. What went over him? He was confused, why was always questioning Freidor’s choices, they clashed so much to his own. Was it frustration over his own inability to voice his doubts, to make his own choices? He hated relying on someone else’s judgment when things got rough, but the recent beatings were not light on him. And he didn’t want to take them lightly either. He looked back at Frosting and Caeou’m glued to each other. What a scare.