The cavern's entrance reminds Catson of a predator's looming maw. The stalactitles and stalagmites reaching towards each other in just the right places the sharp and smoothed speared tips cause the courser to shuffle hoof to hoof in anxiousness. Oh why did I agree to this? He wonders to himself. The urge to fall deeper into thoughts of self-doubt is strong but Catson knows that he mustn't. He agreed to this, and so he will do it. If anything he's a courser of his word and he's no coward- at least that's what this is supposed to prove and Catson isn't looking to let those half-wits think they're right. He's well aware that this is nothing but a childish bet that could very well be putting his own life in danger. Experienced, older, and well traveled coursers' who dedicate training and their life to exploring the depths of the Buried Kingdom that's who's supposed to be coming down here not him, a young courser who only recently could claim the title of "adult". Him, a young male who has zero experience trekking dangerous underground ruins and lands and felt his hide shiver at the stories told by those from his home village of the monsterous entities lurking in the shadows. He'll be damned though if he'd let that rambunctious gang of flea-bitten assholes call him a milksop and an ill-bred maggot. In his moment of anger he accepted their bet, head into the Dungeon and bring something back you could only find there in the dark depths. 
        "They're all the same age as me, yet I don't see them attempting this." Catson mutters eyes roaming every detail of the shadowy entrance. He sighs and gives himself a brisk shake. "You got this Catson, let's prove those whore-sons wrong." Stomping his foot repeatedly into the soft soil he creates a small indent within the earth, this small act of movement sends vibrations of energy within the young courer's muscles willing him to move. One final deep breath and he lunges forward not allowing himself to stop and hesitate any longer. 
        Trotting through into the Dungeon one word surfaces in the front of Catson's mind- disappointment. He had been working up his courage and spirit to enter the dangerous underground world of his homeland and upon entering it looks like nothing but an overgrown cavern. Moss, mushrooms, and other deep-dwelling flora covered walls, floors, and ancient debris of unknown origins. Faintly Catson could even hear what he thought was dripping water in the distance. As he pauses to take this all in a frown downturns his mouth. "This is... anti-climatic." He finds himself muttering as he picks his way through rocks and plants alike. Small gorges cross this way and that causing Catson to take careful steps the last thing he wants is to slip on the slick moss coating parts of the cavern floor. While not appearing unpleasant the chill of the cavern and the unnerving silence that seems to envelop the Dungeon is what keeps Catson to not fully brush off the calm start of this journey. Catching the sight of a treaded path the courser briskly picks his way over there feeling relieved to have his feet on more secure ground. Well, secure in his mind. If others travelled through here enough to make a hoof path then it must be safer, Catson reasons to himself with assured nodding. Wonder how deep I should go? I need to find something that will make people unable to doubt what I achieved.
       Feeling a bit more confident in himself, Catson trots along the hoof-laden path deeper into the Dungeon his eyes roaming the ancient debris, walls, and other corners and hidden ways to find anything he could carry back to the village. He was searching more so for something unique or distiguishable than the scraps lying around the early parts of the Dungeon. It would've been picked clean ages ago he knows by other Dungeon Divers. That thought in particular perks his spirits, if this area was picked clean too then there's no way there's dangerous creatures lurking around. Catson's fear melts away the more and more he travels along the winding path of the caves and tunnels losing track of how deeply he is actually going. When his thoughts finally return from examing his surroundings to how long he had been trekking the Dungeon his anxiety resurages with a vengenace. Stopping dead in his tracks Catson's head jerks to and fro to pick up anything he might recognize. Nothing, the only light that now shone off of the damp drapes and flowstones was orange and red the reflections of the lamp hanging from Catson's flank bags. The plants have also thinned out now being made up of mostly only mushrooms and faintly glowing algae. He snorts trying to release his tension some through his breath.
      "It's fine, let's just head back the way we came." He says a little loudly to himself "we have a path let's just follow the path." His voice reverberates off of the stone surrounding him fading off into the distance of the caverns. As Catson turns to return from where he came he freezes, what was that? His ears swivel trying to pick up the source of what he thinks he heard. It was at the end of the echo, something responded. At least he feels like it did even if the faint noises were breif. Swallowing hard Catson turns back towards the depths ahead cautiously taking steps forward. "H-Hello?" he calls in a soft voice. There. He definitely heard it that time, faint whispers. His mind tries to chop it up to sensible things like more dripping water, maybe a crack in the stone causing a slight breeze, or a rock falling from uphigh meanwhile his fear twists the thoughts and words. Could it be a monster? One of the things he has heard plenty of stories about. Watching, waiting, trying to lure him into the darker reaches so that it may devour him? A shiver runs down Catson's spine and he freezes in place, head lowered and ears pinned. There he waits listening and unmoving. For a long time there is nothing, no sound and no sign of life. Just as he was about to laugh at himself for his foolishness he hears it again- the whispering. To him it doesn't sound of a monster's luring call or a natural phenomenon, to him he swears it's someone talking. 
     Doubtful yet too curious to retreat just yet, Catson stalks his way further his lantern causing the reddish glow of the light to rock back and forth casting long reaching shadows towards him and towards the source of the voices. A column looms before him. Now the voices are clearer, no longer is he hearing the faint whispers of echoes but actual voices. Hope surging in his chest, the young courser cautiously rounds the column only to run muzzle first into someone.
    "OW! What the actual fuc-" A feminine voice snaps in surprise as she and Catson reel back from the sudden hard contact. Snorting angerly the bluish gray courser rears up before stomping her hooves ferociously on the ground. "Watch where you going you moron, who the hell are you anyway?" Stunned Catson just opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water while the snorting stranger glares at him in the faint light. "Well?" she demands once more with a lash of her tail.
    "Arwen hey lets calm down a little ya?" A elegant voice speaks from the gradual darkness, a gray and black somatic male emerging besides the female named Arwen. The female casts him a sharp look. "I'm sorry am I supposed to be thankful that some stranger ran nose first into me Romulus? Because I don't think so." Catson winces at her sharp tongue and takes a tentative step back. The male called Romulus huffs and gives an apologetic look towards Catson. "Don't mind her, her bark is worse than her bite. What's your name?"
    "Catson and for what it's worth I am sorry about that," the young male glances at Arwen dipping his head respectfully. This makes Romulus smile gleefully. "See? Everything is fine now- right Arwen?" Both males watch Arwen who shifts underneath their expectant gazes, snorting she upturns her head and looks away. "Nuisances the both of you." Catson smiles faintly having a feeling that his apology was accepted. 
   "So are you travelling by yourself Catson?" Romulus moves on from the previous topic now facing Catson in full. 
   "Yes," he nods briskly in response trying to stand pride to Romulous' percieved examination of him.
   "Bold, I like it." Romulus smiles a bit slyly causing Catson to tap his back hoof self-conciously. 
   A groan from Arwen. "Can we please get going? I can feel mildew growing in my ears at this rate." Romulus casts a raised glance at Arwen and shrugs. "Sounds good to me, we're about to leave Catson would you like to join us? I would love to have a fresh face to socialize with. This one," he nods at Arwen who sends a glare back, "isn't the best sociable company at the best of times." Catson could tell it was a light-hearted joke which Arwen shrugs off with a roll of her eyes. He finds himself starting to like the odd pair. "I would like that myself- though uh if you don't mind on our way out I'll have to grab something."
    "Oh? What would that be." This time Arwen chimes in as the trio turn to start heading towards the entrance Catson had come from. 
    Smiling sheepishly as they trot along Catson shrugs. "You know that's a really good question." The two coursers looked at each other then back to Catson who grinned smugly as they went along the path feeling a lot better than he did when he had entered.