They were out of breath by the time their steps slowed to a stop, otherworldly howls trailing after them as whispers on their heels—where hound's foul air blew hot from slathering, putrid jaws moment ago; it'd been his first encounter with any monster down here, something he'd not soon forget as he turns his head back the way they came, ears pinned warily as a smile dies on his face, a stern expression falling back into place like stacked stone blocks. Blue eyes drift from over his shoulder to his companion, finding her mirthful despite the dangers lurking about, a contagious enigma enough for him to believe that he was safe in her hands, his steps soon echoing once more as he sauntered after her ethereal figure by torchlight.

"You said you've been down here before?" He broke the silence suddenly, the flame from her torch popping an ember after his words, burnt speck bounding down the path as its little light petered out.

"Yes," absentminded was the reply as she focused instead on kicking a bit of debris, broken off from the stone path, into the lava below; it gurgled and bellowed and finally sunk below the fiery pit. He'd watched it idly sink, sliding his gaze back to her with a raised brow, "How often do you go down to the deeper levels?"

"As often as I'm needed," a pause as she stopped, tilting her head in thought, "as much as I want—though the boys say it's not safe to go deeper than the second floor—did you see how many hellhounds there were?" She whirled around, then, baffling the older man as he froze, brow quirked, "It's so rare to see an intact pack!" She bounces the topic of choice around like a tennis ball against the walls of the dungeon as they carry on through another corridor and it is a miracle he can keep pace in these twisting labyrinthian conversations they have, gaining further distance from the danger they just narrowly evaded, until they come to what appears to be a chamber for all kinds of mystical fauna; and though immediately perturbed by the nature of creatures swimming up from inside the bowels of the lava itself, his companion doesn't seem to mind the animals flying past her head or skittering underneath their hooves as Nicodemus' eyes follow after whatever creature that had been disappearing beneath the bridge.

Out of sight, out of mind he thinks wryly.

Preoccupied with minding the weird animals carrying on around him, his focus is directed back to the woman's airy voice once again, stepping over what he originally thought to be a bunch of rubble that quickly got up and waddled further down the bridge to reposition themselves an inconspicuous pile of rubble somewhere else. "Did you bring water like I requested?" Furrowing his brow, he nodded quietly, the mention of it causing him to only now realize how dry his mouth had been; and the unbearable weight of heat that licked at their flesh without remorse. "Good, it only gets worse as you go down, but there is some reprieve through vents—" her words trailed off, something he'd been used to as he fidgeted with pulling out the flasks from one of the lent packs at his side, but turning back to face her, he finds her nowhere in front of him.

"Where the fu—" Panic quickly dies in his throat as he looks down at the woman, staring fascinated at a rock.

"What are you—" He's cut off as she shushes him, waving a hoof to beckon him over and, although he rolls his eyes and second guesses his choice of seasoned dungeoneer again, he listens and comes to peer down at the salamander with her.

He is less than fascinated by what he looks at to be a piece of rock.

Until, that is, it opens one round eye; and then another. The rock splits in three places, and suddenly a wide mouth opens to show a pink tongue and small, needle-like teeth. As a precaution, Nicodemus steps back, but his company makes no move towards or away from the creature as it blinks one eye, and then the other systematically as if waking up from a nap. Never one to enjoy the silence, he breaks it by asking her what exactly it is.

"A salamander," she states simply.

"A magical lava salamander," he corrects.

"A magical lava salamander," she parrots back to him, and he sighs loudly.

"Why are you fascinated by a salamander more than any other random, magical, dangerous creature in here?" He can't keep the curiosity from his tone, even as he's exasperated by the strange mannerisms she exhibits, waving his preternatural hand in the air at all the other things crawling in or around the heat of the lava pools.

It's then that she looks at him, really takes a moment to stare—and whatever it is she finds in her assessment, she rises from crouching down to inspect the salamander and tilts her head at her charge curiously, and then tilts her head the other way with a frown. "Should I strike a pose?" He snorts, and she shakes her head no. "They're rare. Very rare. It's better if you don't know the specifics, but others up there," she gestures to mean the surface, "some come for treasure, some for fame. Some come to poach, because few take into consideration someone like this," she gestures to the salamander besides her, who slow blinks at her sleepily, "could be.. precious, important." He nods a second time, gaze lingering on the rather harmless creature expectantly, as if it'll prove her wrong; but it just sits there in its lethargic state, skin cooled enough to pick up if either wanted to—it was utterly at the mercy of whoever happened upon it, for better or worse.

"I think I understand."

"Then don't touch it," She states, although she's already picking it up like a dog, as it begins squirming in her grasp and hissing audibly in protest before it's unceremoniously tossed back into the lava below the bridge with a loud audible plop. "It has just as much right to live," is all she says before continuing onwards, never bothering to wait for an answer as Nicodemus trails after her, his eyes still on where the salamander disappeared underneath the churning waves of magma as they're swallowed up by another tunnel leading further in.