Fleur had returned to the surface after her last mothy dive, putting a couple of large cocoons and one Very Hungry Caterpillar into her little untidy home. She piled a bunch of branches and a lot of moss for the caterpillar and shut the door - hoping against hope that the thing didn't eat her out of house and home.. literally. She only had the one home, and it was her sanctuary. Nobody else was there and hadn't been for a very, very long time. It had been built by her and her 'uncle' one long, very unlazy summer, and she was very proud of how she maintained it... which wasn't very well at all to be honest.

No use worrying about that now though, she had more diving to do, she hadn't yet found what it was that niggled at her, in her chest, in her bones. Something needed finding.

Taking a deep breath of the warm summer evening air outside, she headed back in - this time remembering her lamp, strapped to her shoulders like a weird little backpack. It cast shadows with her head, the dark shapes appearing on the walls infront of her like some sort of leading shadow. Fleur didn't mind, even though she knew the shadow was hers, it was nice to have company.
Mossy step after mossy step, the ground gave way to cobblestones, the familiarity of the dungeon feeling safe by now. Fleur probably wasn't born with any fear, which was weird for a horse.
Eventually her shadow spread out as the tunnel came to a chamber, elongating along the ground like an ominous giraffe, and as she stopped - so did it. The shadowy shape of her head perfectly looming over a horse skull on the ground.

Cool.

Fleur looked past the skull and saw another. And another. Piles of ribs, legbones, spines. Multiple coursers had passed away here. Grim.

Fleur was unbothered. Unphased, moisturised, thriving, in her lane. These skeletons were obviously mistake makers. Bothered, shrivelled, certainly not thriving. She regarded the chest on the pedestal and flipped her top lip up to give it a good smell. Stinky. Something there wasn't quite right.

Pass.

Her own chest (not the one on the pedastal) told her that wasn't what she was looking for. The woad and gold courser continued past the distraction and back out of the moonlight into the tunnel beyond, descending deeper into the cool depths of the dungeon, once again following her own shadow for the fun of it.