Oriana plods after her superior, one step after the other. It’s a slow, methodical walk compared to Thaumiel’s confident steps, but she keeps stride. It’s enough.

The darkness isn’t so all-consuming on this floor – at least, that’s what Sir Thaumiel had assured. The plant life and overgrowth made it almost preferable to the surface, in a way – the ground above where the fallen kingdom had begun to resurface was desolate and war-torn. It was what lay beneath that drew so many close.

It’s overwhelmingly green, but Ori clings to the freckles of sunlight that filter in from the topside. If she were less nervous and a little less occupied with exactly where her hooves were going, she’d maybe think it marvelous. It’s autumn on the surface. The cold breeze even wafts in from above. Here, though, it may as well be the thick of spring.

The sunlight dapples her pelt as she ducks underneath and follows where the Knight goes. He ducks beneath an old archway and, in turn, she scrambles after.

Following after her is one of the wolves that the Knights frequently use as companions – Thaumiel had insisted upon bringing such an animal. She’d been somewhat nervous at first, but the animal took well to her, and it liked Thaumiel well enough. The canine pants and it turns to background noise over time.

“How far are we– err . . .” Ori isn’t exactly sure how Thaumiel works just yet. Is her speech welcome? Is she allowed to just question him however she pleases? She waits for a correction that never comes before she opens her mouth again. “How far are we scouting for today?”

“Not very.” Thaumiel has his head held high and his ears perked as he takes in the surroundings. He remembers this portion of crumbling ruins like he had a map for it burned into the back of his mind. “I just want you to start getting a feel for the place. I know you are . . . somewhat concerned about any official assignments.”

“This isn’t official?” It comes out almost like a chirp, which she quickly quiets and repeats, “It isn’t?”

Shaking his head, there’s no nervousness that rolls off of Thaumiel. “It’s off the books. I just want you to get a feel for it.”

“ . . . “

“You won’t get reprimanded for it, I promise.”

Ori shakily breathes in as she ducks around some hanging ivy.

“Alright.”

The sunlight doesn’t reach as far down here as she’d like; now that the ceiling had a layer of crumbling building and cobblestone in between, the darkness crept in and Ori could sense the difference in life around here. The insects that scuttled around corners as they approached. The chittering of bats echolocating off in the distance somewhere.

Thaumiel whispering something – why was he whispering?

“What?” She trots forward, tail raised in a flagging motion. Concerned.

He cocks a brow. “Yes?”

“You– oh.” She blinks, looking backwards. His mouth hadn’t been moving. 

She quietly slows to a halt. Thaumiel follows suit as a little concern brings creases to his brow. The wolf weaves between her legs with ears perked.

The words melt together and are completely indecipherable – they may as well be babbling in a foreign language, but she swears they’re just around the corner. Her ears pin as her head swivels and the thicker fur of her nape bristles to stand on end. 

“I thought it was you–” her voice cracks; nervousness seeping through. “But, um, I hear– I hear voices, I think maybe we’re being followed?”

Galatea. Galatea. Galatea. 

She can hear it clear as day, bright as the dawn, and it’s a word she does not know. The voices crescendo into a cacophony, and her breathing quickens, and she’s fairly certain it’s a curse now, and–

The downward spiral is obvious. He doesn’t want to touch, but Thaumiel leans forward to put himself back in her line of sight. “Hey. Breathe.”

“But–”

“No, no, I understand. Just breathe. Do me a favor.” He tilts his nose down to point at the Wolf, who pants happily between her two front legs. When Ori’s gaze turns to face it, it looks up with a soft whine. It almost seems to ask her directly, what’s wrong? 

“See how he doesn’t have a reaction?” Thaumiel says. “His ears are relaxed. His tail is wagging a bit. This is why bringing a familiar along is almost always a good idea. It helps keep you . . . sane, you know?”

Ori takes a moment before she slowly, slowly nods. It takes those few seconds to absorb the fact that the wolf wasn’t reacting. She watches his ears for any kind of at-attention or for a growl to arise. 

“They just sound so–”

“Real, yes.” The Knight nods. “I believe you. Trust me. It’s just, well – it’s a part of this place.”

“Do they, um, speak . . . do you understand them?”

He thinks on the odd line of questioning. “Sometimes. Not here, usually.”

Her ears still lay flat as she looks around, and Thaumiel makes a small note to ask her further about it at a later time. He doesn’t want to press any further at the current time – lest she continue to dig a deeper ditch to lie in.

He didn’t normally hear any kind of coherent whispers here.

The wolf looks up to Thaumiel and tilts his head the other way. His ears were almost floppy. It brings him back to a more comfortable place.

After Ori sits with the sensation for a few minutes, he walks forward again and taps her lightly on the flank with his tail. He can’t help but smile at the slight jump she does, but her eyes are back and focused, and he can tell she isn’t fully stuck in her own mind anymore. 

“C’mon.” Thaumiel gestures with a toss of his head back towards where they came from. Ori needed time, it seemed. Bits of exposure and a slow ease into it. There was the makings of a good-hearted knight in there, though – he felt it. Saw it in the way sunlight caught the bright golds of her pelt and the curiosity in her eyes. 

“That’s enough for now.”