This floor of the dungeon lit every inch of rock and brick with red. Magma bubbled as it ran through cracks in the earth like veins, steam rising from vents that broke through the rock. Claddagh kept her gait steady, Terrence never too far ahead, her hound, Baxter, never too far behind. 

Claddagh never quite liked the Earthen Furnace. Even the name itself sent a quiver of distaste through her. But actually traversing it—its heat, its dangers, its monsters—was another distaste entirely. Or, rather, another fear. Dying from one misstep into lava certainly wasn’t on Claddagh’s schedule, and she’d be damned if she tarnished her name with such an ameater death.

Her and Terrence’s hoofsteps thudded against the ground, muffled on hot, ashy rock. Despite the wide open cavern with other Coursers surely on the other sides of these lava lakes, it felt like Claddagh and Terrence were the only two Coursers in the dungeon. Only their breaths could be heard past the hissing and boiling lava, only their hooves against the rock. 

Until something darted beneath them, Claddagh dancing on her hooves to try and find the tiny thing that’s spooked her. Terrence turned, tail flicking, before his ears perked up, eyes caught on something on some rocks to Claddagh’s right. “Over there,” he said. “A salamander.”

Claddagh raised her brow and followed Terrence’s gaze, then followed his lead as he drew closer to the small creature. At least it’d gotten here before her hooves crushed it—the film of sticky lava meant to protect the salamander’s skin had begun to crack and harden in places. Its dart here had perhaps been its final chance to move so fast, as its skin had lost the normal luster of hot lava, closer now to the dull red-black rock it clung to. And even as Terrence and Claddagh drew close, it tried to move, but two of its leg joints seemed stuck, the film there too cooled to move well.

“Chances like this don’t fall into your hooves every day,” Terrence said around a laugh, moving closer to the salamander before Claddagh stepped in front of him.

“Don’t,” she murmured. “We shouldn’t take one when we haven’t seen another.” Claddagh straightened, looking back at the salamander. “This one needs help back into the lava.”

A groan left Terrence’s throat before he silenced it, but then a huff left him. “I suppose that’s a good rule to follow.”

Claddagh gave him a small, sideways smile before nodding to Baxter. The hound gave a soft woof and nosed at the salamander, the tiny thing opening its mouth wide in the cutest form of intimidation Claddagh had ever seen. Baxter drew the salamander atop his nose and carefully, careful, brought it to the nearest edge of lava, resting it on the earth and nudging it toward the heat with his muzzle. The lizard stayed frozen for a moment, and then the heat must’ve warmed it up, because it soon darted back into the lava, disappearing without as much as a splash. 

Baxter bounded back to Claddagh and she nuzzled his head, praising him. Terrence rolled his eyes, then urged her onward, back to the journey at hand. “Karma had better give us a whole lounge of salamanders after this.”

Claddagh laughed. “I suppose we can only wait and see.”