Solid stone had turned to gravel in this cavern, each step of Lorelai’s hooves sinking some into the untraversed debris. She surveyed the area: rot touched every piece of wood that still held itself together, and mite holes and rust speckled each piece of fabric and metal she could make out from beneath layers of rubble. Piles of debris encircled what looked to be an ancient fire pit, the gravel there dotted white with ash with iron pots turned over within it. 

Distracted as she was, Lorelai tripped over a tight rope hidden beneath a layer of dirt, and her shoulder hit the ground hard, her body following behind, a harsh neigh ripping from her throat. The rope pulled at a small construct within a pile of debris, and dull fabric and wood disintegrated into nothing the next second.

Lorelai caught her breath while her little blue wisp fluttered around her, frantic. Her shoulder stung, pain prickling down her foreleg, but she shifted onto her stomach, easing some weight off the limb. Her wisp settled some, hovering over her sore leg and offering some warmth to it before rising up against Lorelai’s mane.

She shook her head as her wisp tickled her fur, a smile coming to her muzzle. Yes, yes, she’d get up. Lorelai nosed at her wisp, its flame molding around her snout before it jerked away from a harsh blow of Lorelai’s nostrils. Its soft blue turned harsh in surprise before it rushed back to Lorelai’s side, its flame crackling in exasperation.

With a soft laugh, Lorelai eased herself back up, wincing only a little before standing straight. She continued circling through this camp she’d found herself in, searching the debris with more care and caution.

An oddness caught her eye, though, as she came closer to a section of the stone wall at the edge of the camp. Harsh divots and lines decorated the stone, forming a single word: GALATEA.

Lorelai furrowed her brow. Was that the name of this camp? Who named a camp, especially a temporary one like this? She paced along the carving, looking at it from every which way. Was it a message? Perhaps a clue for deeper along in the dungeon? She pulled out a scrap of parchment from the pack at her flank and wrote the word down with a piece of charcoal. Whatever this camp had been, time had long taken any other clues. She should tuck this into the back of her mind and continue on.