"Oh nooooo definitely not," Tamsin answered the question that Crispin had certainly not uttered. But the older Courser definitely seemed interesting in hearing about where Tamsin had come from, what life had been like on the farm. Their family, friends. "They wouldn't wanna come down here."

"Senara, you see, she's the oldest. She runs the farm for Ma and Pa, has a head for keepin' an eye on supply and coin and all that. Eseld though, she's the one that actually does the trading. She quiet, but she's got a way with people, ya know?" Senara was capable, Eseld sweet, they had always made a good team.

"I didn't ask-"

Tamsin trotted ahead of Crispin, not hearing the protest the Courser cut off, apparently deciding better of it.

"And then there's Kensa. She's only a little bit older than me but she's soooo cool." Tamsin turned back over their shoulder to grin toothily as Crispin who huffed not-quite good naturedly. "So I 'spose if anyone were to come down here, it'd be her. But she always thought this was pretty stupid of me to wanna do so." They shrugged. Tamsin was here now, no matter Kensa's words.

On his back, Musca hummed softly, perhaps a soothing gesture. Tamsin turned to nuzzle the little bat all the same, his violet eyes glowing softly in the gloom.

Their ramble continued onward through the Moor without hesitation. Bright and shiny, unbothered by the oppressive rot of this level of the dungeon. Tamsin was not easily dulled.

For that, Crispin did not disturb them again.