There had never been a time where he left the dungeons. At least, not that he could remember; he was born here, at least he thought he was. If they were born on the surface then they hadn't been there for very long.

But Friar was pretty sure they were born down here. There was something different about the coursers he encountered, some indeterminable aspect surely given to them by the surface. Something he lacked, though it wasn't something he often thought about. There was something about the sunlight, or maybe the surface itself, that made coursers whole, and Friar didn't have it. Simple as that.

A familiar fluttering invaded his thoughts. "Hullo, bat." Friar greeted as he twisted around to look at the small brown bat perched on his back. It shrieked at him irately and he briefly wondered what he had done to upset the thing this time.

He rolled onto his hooves. It was a nice little spot he'd found himself, but it was time to move on. He'd already spent more than enough time resting here by the river; now he itched to explore what recesses he hadn't yet seen. Not that there were many of those left on this level of the dungeons.

With the bat clinging stubbornly to their back, Friar trotted off into a side passage, away from the small cavern that had served as his oasis for a couple days. There was always more to do than sit around.