Everything is fuzzy, at first, when Petrichor finally comes to. The dust has long since settled and there is an air of silence that felt more damning than welcoming. Just what has he gotten himself into? No, wait, just where was he? What happened?

Looking around, nothing apparent stands out at first. Then, the memories rush back in a tidal wave that sent pulses of pain through his tired muscles. Those hands... her angry presence laced in the claws of them. She is trying to teach me something, and I don't think I know exactly what, yet.

Riot, the little traitor, hovers closely nearby. Its flitting and childlike nature is gone until it is noticed and the flickering of moving magical energy restarts. Petrichor could hardly recognize it in those still moments. It was not the fun creature he remembered it to be, and yet, it has returned to what it was before. Something was definitely amiss in the dungeon.

In a blip of remembrance, the stallion looks around again to try and locate the bickering couple and the annoyingly happy darker courser. Only... there's no sign of either of the arguing pair. Whatever grabbed them, they had chosen to take those two somewhere else. Despite their irritating banter, he still did not wish harm to them... he hopes they made it somewhere safe.

Perhaps to his ever-growing annoyance, Arcturus is still there. Still lying down, Petrichor calls out to him slightly annoyed, "So, do you usually walk face first into danger without second thought?"

-

The lack of clarity is bliss, for a mere moment, before Arcturus is able to stand and the buzz of unconsciousness wears off. They were noticeably two lacking, but he similarly assumed they were either somewhere else or just consumed by the dungeon itself.

On shaky legs, he tilts his head towards the other. "Didn't know there was danger. But yes. I let this place take me where it may." It's a merry sentiment. A little unbefitting of this place.

-

Petrichor stares a bit incredulously at the other. Of all the ones he was stuck with... Okay, alright. This was fine. He wasn't fine, he was stuck with the crazy one. Who was he kidding? "Didn't know there was danger? A path in a random room screams safe to you?"

He looks up at the ceiling and prays for patience. To what god? He had no clue. He just needed it. If anything, a small ping of a harrumph echoes back with a tinge of amusement. "It truly is a wonder you haven't perished... okay." He murmurs under his breath as pushes to stand. "Do you have any other grand ideas on what to do?" It comes out sarcastic. Very sarcastic.

-

A flick of the ear. His hitchhiker – the little gelatinous cube – sits soggily at the base of Arcturus' mane. "Your concern is sweet." Your cautiousness will get you nowhere, however.

"If you want, I can guide you back to the top," he says, stretching one leg, then the other. "I'd wanted to go farther, though..." It's a wistful sigh that leaves him.

-

Whatever patience he was looking for, he found enough to steel himself. Shaking his head, he looks back down and off towards an opening in the cavern they were stuck in. Leave? No, everything in him screamed with wrongness at even the thought.

"No," he gives in with a heavy sigh, eyeing the other with less intensity and resigning himself to the other's continued company. "We got this far, already. No use in turning in early." There was someone he needed to find. Giving up would get him nowhere closer to her.

He, instead, gestures to the opening.

-

"I'm glad you think so." Arcturus swishes his tail, then nods towards the corridor that gets ... so, so narrow. "Only way is forward, yes?"

-

Saccharine had been following the cleanly put-together stallion for only a little while, but even still, she worried. He seemed more than capable down here, but it wasn't so much him she was all that worried about. She had heard the stories about the ones that came down here and never got back out. Why did she have to take that stupid dare? Nevertheless, she was lucky to have found him after getting herself lost.

The path ahead seemed to only grow more packed together, however. "Are you sure we're going the right way?" She wasn't sure where he was taking her, only that he was her only hope of getting out.

-

Thaumiel leads confidently, even though the path ahead is getting narrower, and his sure-footedness was only leading the two of them further into the dungeon that Saccharine had begged to be let out of. He just had been sure that they couldn't turn back, not after that horrid gut feeling.

"I'm not sure we have a choice ..." His reply is honest, though he means it assuredly. His flank brushes against the closing walls and his long tail curls away in annoyance.

-

At his response, she shrinks into herself and eyes the closing walls with some hesitance and bottled fear. His confidence could only inspire so much in reflection back to her before reality settled in. Okay... a little tight quarters certainly was preferable to a giant monster.

Her fear, though, was almost reverberated back to her. A racing drum fills her ears as her sides rub against the hardened walls. Thaumiel towered over her. She could see only the back of his head as they went on. "Do you see anything?" She asks if only to distract herself from the pressure of walls closing in.

-

He's nervous that his pelt is going to scrape away against the walls, but he perseveres. Quietly, he squints at the moving shapes up ahead. Something else is in this corridor with them.

He slows as to not bring the other to be too fearful. Even Thaumiel was beginning to feel the pressure of this place.

Flicking his eyes back, he decides not to give her too much of a chance to process or protest. Instead, he calls out to the nothingness, "Who goes there?"

-

Petrichor somehow gets roped into leading the charge...again. You know, as much as he prided himself in being reliable, he wasn't sure he was the best courser for this task. He'd push through it even if it killed him. With the amount of squishing the walls were giving him, pushing through was becoming more literal.

The sound of an incoming voice was the last thing he expects as he jumps slightly and pauses. Unable to really look around comfortably, he instead calls back to Arcturus, "Did you hear that? I think there's someone with us."

-

Arcturus only smiles. That's certainly a living being – not a ghost.

"Must be ghosts," he whispers forward, watching for the chill down the other's spine. Regardless, he nudges Petrichor to continue moving, calling out with a bright smile, "Hail and well met, travelers!"

-

Saccharine jumps first at the sound of Thaumiel calling out, but it is only after the grumbling of someone and the shouted reply to the call after that her heart truly feels like it is fit to burst. The mare stops and stares desperately at her companion. This was insane.

She whispers to the leading courser, "Should we turn back?" There was no room left to turn, but she'd run backward if given the command.

-

"Just stay behind me, it's alright," Thaumiel replies. His tail is long enough to press against her side – not that, in this cramped space, there's much of a choice – and it does so as some kind of appeasement gesture. It isn't until the spotting of another courser comes into view that his body posture relaxes. Just barely, as from this distance and with this light, it's hard to tell intent.

From behind the stranger, Arcturus attempts to peek his head up and smile.

This was making Thaumiel more anxious than anything. "Ser Thaumiel, and the one under my guard is the fine Saccharine," he says stiffly. He swallows down the petrifying thought of walking backwards into the dark. "One of our parties will have to return to where they came from, I am afraid."

-

Saccharine tries her best to peer around, but it is to no avail. She lets Thaumiel handle it and is soothed only slightly by the press of his tail.

Petrichor, on the other hand, deadpans at the voice of Arcturus and wonders what he did in life to deserve such torment. Riot, the most free of the bunch, offers no insight. "Petrichor." It is said with all the existential dread he currently felt. "I'm afraid our way back is nothing but dust and a creepy ambiance."

-

The two parties, now combined to make one, stared at the other momentarily. Being so close to each other felt suffocating and it was getting tighter by the minute. None of them seemed inherently opposed to closed-in spaces, but all could feel the race in their chest as the walls seemed to creep closer and closer. Claustrophic was too true, in their predicament.

It felt like their heartbeats were in their ears...or was it just Saccharine's scared heartbeat that echoed loudly to them all?