Watery rays of sunlight were just beginning to crest the tallest moor, stealing across the hills with warmth so weak it failed to rid the grass of its light frost. The gentle rustle of the breeze through the sparse bushes brought with it a biting chill, surprisingly vicious for so late in the spring; evidence lay in the blackened buds of sorrel shoots that had sprouted to no avail, their efforts thwarted by the cruel grip of a winter that had long since overstayed its welcome.

A motley group of coursers stood at the mouth of the cave. Their breath stained the air with ephemeral clouds of mist, disappearing as quickly as it appeared. This early in the morning, the only sounds carrying across the moor were the faint twitter of birds and the occasional jangle of equipment as one of them shifted their weight; everything else, from the white-tailed deer that roamed the forest to the tiniest dormouse in its burrow, were asleep. 

The smallest of the coursers broke the silence with a snort, stamping his hoof in annoyance. "I don't know about you guys, but I didn't get up this early to waste time waiting for some novice to roll their lazy ass out of their bedding. I'm freezing."

Arthur shivered as the cool air nipped at his skin, finding his normally good mood hard to upkeep. He wasn’t a fan of the cold, or mornings really. And waiting in the cold, in the morning, he hated even more. His ears perked as Cairn spoke, his messy forelock falling into his eyes as he nodded his head in agreement. 

“Agreed, had I known we’d be waiting so long I’d have suggested meeting somewhere else. Or at least later.” The roan grumbled, shifting his weight on his hooves in an attempt to keep warm. “Are we sure we told her the right time?” He asked, looking to his compatriots with a raised eyebrow.

“I told her to come at first light.” Merlin grumbled. “Maybe she misunderstood, she’s… airheaded sometimes.” The gray Courser shook a collection of snowflakes from his pale coat. Unlike the others, he didn’t mind the cold and was inwardly appreciative of the delay- More time under the sun before the subterranean pits swallowed them whole. 

Merlin surveyed the collection of Coursers and companions before him. Lovell and Cairn’s hawk danced with the snow above them, and Phineas- Arthur’s hound- slumped lazily at his master’s feet, obviously just as glad for the delay as Merlin was. A hurried clomping of hooves through snow tore away the comment brewing at Merlin’s lips, and he turned, unable to keep his smile hidden as Odessa hurried through the storm towards them.

The red mare arrived rather unceremoniously, clearly in good spirits and far from apologetic about the delay. "Morning," she greeted, surveying the company before her with pricked ears. Most of them looked at least somewhat miserable, companions included, and she snorted, shaking the snow from her mane as she pushed past them to the cavern's entrance. The harrier atop her head was unseated by this, giving an indignant squawk that was ignored by her keeper. 

"Chins up, folks. What are we all moping around for?" Odessa quipped, oblivious to having been the source of all this upset, and turned to push her nose through the curtain of hanging vines without another backward glance. Today would carry her deeper into the bowels of the dungeon than she’d ever been before, and despite the coil of nervous energy that churned in her stomach, she couldn’t help but be ridiculously excited at the prospect. Plus, with three other Coursers in tow, she figured the chances of being taken out by whatever the dungeons had to offer were significantly reduced. More targets to choose from, less individual risk. It was simple math.

Cairn stared incredulously after her, tail swishing irritably. Freja chose that moment to land on his head in a shower of snow, using his ears as a perch. He let out a squawk of alarm, earning a chortle from Arthur as the other coursers followed Odessa through the vines.

The air was heavy and damp, but pleasantly warm to Cairn’s chilled bones. They formed a single-file line with Odessa in the lead, the young mare shouldering her way through the chest-height bushes. From the back of their procession, Cairn couldn’t make out what she was saying- and maybe that was for the best; he was accustomed to travelling with the older, more taciturn Polaris, and it’d been some time since he’d ventured into the dungeons with anyone else.

They traipsed through several caverns, batting away the insects that rose in clouds from the jungle plants. At one point there was a metallic shing! as a courser drew their sword to cut through a particularly stubborn patch of vines, but otherwise their journey was uneventful. 

“Uh huh…” Merlin noncommittally replied as Odessa asked him yet another rushed question. He hardly listened to the younger mare, focusing instead on their surroundings. Every step further underground yielded more potential danger, and truthfully, he was doubtful that Odessa had even the slightest inkling of what to look for. 

Suddenly, he slammed into a furry wall. “Hey! What-” His spluttering was cut off as he saw why Odessa had stopped. Looming before the darker Courser was a series of peculiarly shaped stones, oddly pale in the bioluminescent light. Towering in the center of the scattering was what appeared to be the gargantuan head of an indistinguishable creature, a six-foot blade lodged in the forehead like a horn. 

“Is that… Bone?” 

Arthur peered around his companions before making his way to the front to examine the massive roadblock before them. Phin tagged along obediently, his scruffy head held low to the ground as he snuffed his way up to the corpse. 

“I… I think that’s a skull.” He spoke in a hushed tone, because quite obviously the creature was long dead. If it was ever alive, that is, but a pile of bones with a sword stabbed into it felt very ‘end of life’ to him. “Do you think it’s dead? Dead as in, ‘won’t move if we touch it’ dead. Not just no longer breathing.” Arthur turned, questioning the group with a raised brow. 

“Because personally, I’m really not looking forward to fighting a giant bone monster with a sword in its head.” 

Odessa didn’t seem to share the same apprehension, ignoring the group’s uncertainty and trotting right up to the great beast’s head. “Obviously. I mean, look at it. There’s cobwebs and shit.” She knocked a hoof against the thick wall of ivory before her. She glanced back at her companions with a shit-eating grin on her face.

“Watch out, Arthur. If this thing wakes up I’m sending it your way,” she taunted, though there was no malice in her voice, only the playfulness of an idiot with an undue amount of hubris. She turned back to the skull, shuffling her feet to line herself up before she pushed herself back on her haunches, placing her two front hooves atop the curved plane of its cheek. Straining upward, she lipped at the hilt of the sword until she finally managed to find purchase.

A new crack split upward through the beast’s forehead as she pulled the sword down and out from its brow. It was huge, far bigger than she’d expected, and her eyes lit up as the blade kept coming. When it was finally free, she spun around to show the party, only to lodge the blade directly into a different pillar of bone to her right. She yanked it free once more, letting it clang against the stone. 

Her voice was muffled by the hilt as she spoke. “This thing is fucking sick!”