He huffed in annoyance, stepping high as the water continued to rise. This stupid- cistern, or whatever it was- was not what he signed up for. Cyprin flicked his tail angrily, whickering in anger when the motion only flicked droplets onto his nose.

He sloshed onwards. Did this place go on forever? The decrepit old archways continued on, disappearing into the middle distance. He knew he should’ve taken the other path at that crossroads. Maybe there would have been a monster. Instead he was here, in this stupid old room, stepping through this stupid water, staring at the stupid frescoes on the archways.

“Stupid dungeon,” He muttered to himself, tossing his head furiously. “Stupid old cistern.”

He’d come here for adventure, not this. He hadn’t even seen anything frightening yet! All there was in these dungeons were those glowy moths and their cocoons and, apparently, cisterns that went on forever.

All those adventurers acting like the dungeons were sooo dangerous, with danger around every turn. They were probably just trying to save other coursers from the boredom.

Childishly, he stomped his front hooves, splashing water all over his chest and belly, only serving to make himself more annoyed.

Finally, after ages of walking, he reached the end of the cistern and turned the corner.

And stopped.

It was a dead end.

Cyprin stared at the wall ahead of him, momentarily dumbfounded. A dead end? Seriously? After he had walked all this way? Through the water?

“Stupid dungeon!” He squealed furiously, kicking one of the crumbling statues that stood nearby, stomping when it made his leg twang in pain. He stared at the wall ahead of few moments longer, somehow reluctant to turn and leave; it felt like he was admitting defeat. Defeated by some old, crumbling cistern.

Grinding his teeth together, Cyprin turned and began the long trek back out of the cistern.