"I still can't believe you're here," Spuds exclaimed, staring at the sooty bay at his side. Malone was herculean in a way, with a thick build of fat and muscle with a robust structure beneath it. He stood at a height perhaps too tall for a Courser, but with the bay's low-head carriage, it didn't always show. Where Spuds' hooves were arguably delicate and small, Malone left footprints that the tobiano could fit both forehooves in and still have some space. The saddlebags strapped about his chest didn't help minimize Malone's bulk, and there was a smirk on his lips every time someone stared at him for the fact.

"World works in strange ways as they say," Malone muttered back, his dark umber eyes scouring the overhead archways as they grew more and more frequent. Echoing down the halls they could hear the trickling sounds of water and when they followed it, it brought them away from the organic Overgrown Caverns and towards a meticulously carved cistern. As they followed the passage down, they eventually came to the very source they had followed. Ankle-deep water sprawled ahead of them in an impossibly large series of columns and arches. Unlike the rest of the cavern they had explored, these walls were smooth and painted. Or, at least, had once been. Depictions of two-legged humanoids and Coursers were painted across the walls and peaked ceilings, discernable still despite the cracks and chips.

As the water sloshed about at their legs, both adventurers stopped and looked toward these lost pieces of art. Silence impregnated the air around them, only rivaled by the gurgle or flow of the water settling in the space. After what seemed like ages, Spuds looked away from the ceilings and back to his old friend. His black cat, Magic, rested on his rump, eyes untrusting and startled as he stared down at the stagnant, cloudy water.

"What do you think it is?" Spuds asked, voice low and unsure despite taking the lead in this collaboration.

Malone's gaze flicked to the smaller Courser then before back at the walls. "I mean, seems similar to paintings I sort of remember, but you know... not in frames, but on the actual walls."

"I mean, do you think it's trying to say something?"

The gaze that flicked towards Spuds was incredulous, "Does it have to say something?"

There was a pause as Spuds' gaze flicked away, his face warm, and his ears fell back atop his thin mane as a frown tugged at his lips. "Well... I mean...." Another pause, his stomach suddenly rolling uncomfortably.

"Just spit it out, kid."

"Well... when we were coming down here we heard them." Spuds paused, his eyes growing distant, a white crescent cupping the corners to betray his fear. "The ghosts."

"So?" Malone encouraged.

"They said that word. Galatea." Spuds looked back to the frescos. For a moment he debated if this place was more frightening due to the lack of ghouls and pumpkin vines that had seemed otherwise so prevalent in previous areas. "I've seen it on the walls here."

Malone didn't say anything but settled in for Spuds' theory with a slosh of water.

"Does it mean something to you?" Spuds looked back towards the larger Courser, one he'd immediately felt a connection with. One that stretched beyond their time here in the Buried Kingdom, though he couldn't quite describe how or why he felt that way. Regardless, the kinship they had was instant and brotherly.

"Galatea?" Malone repeated, looking back to the painted frescos as if they may hold some sort of answer. There were no inscriptions with the images no matter how hard he searched or scrutinized a smudge. "Can't say that it does."

"Hmm..." Spuds hummed, deflated, as he looked back towards the mostly stagnant water. After another moment, "It stinks in here."

"Yea it does..."