The pang of yearning for the depths was something that had lingered in Esmeray’s heart since the beginning of her days. Her origins were clouded, too muddled to retain clarity. The furthest back she could remember was simply being in the dungeons, and being found by Imogen’s motley crew of adventurers. They pulled her from the depths, coaxing her along the way. The daylight of the world above was too bright, too bustling, and too loud for her liking. The adventurers meant well, she could understand as much. They were kind, friendly, and welcoming toward her. The entire time with them, she did not speak. She had never spoken, in her recollections, and felt no need to.

She needed time - time to adjust, time with her thoughts. Seclusion was all she knew, and it is where she found comfort. When the adventurers had all taken the time to rest, she slipped into the shroud of the night and followed the magnetizing pull of the dungeons. The moonlight of a crescent moon peered through wispy clouds. Her cloven hooves allow her to quietly traverse the well-trodden path. Other coursers are traversing the same path - most of which are a returning to the nearest town, and passing by her. A few of them nod and murmur greetings, and Esmeray merely nods in return. The dripping moon marking on her face was the only indication that she had made any acknowledgement. She may not have spoken much, but she didn’t want to be impolite.

Soon enough, she reaches the entrance of the dungeon, and her ears perk up slowly. Esmeray feels the magnetic draw of the caverns fade as she reaches the entrance, and the world above disappears as she meanders the rocky pathways. Lit by torchlight alone, the subterranean halls are winding. They lead into many corridors, of which Esmeray stands in the middle of the divergent paths. She flicks her long, tufted tail. Her dark eyes wander between each entryway before picking the one to the left. The choice was made by instinct, driven by curiosity. She had no idea which pathway Imogen’s squad had found her in, but it mattered not, in truth.

She moves forward slowly, and her tufted brows furrow as she sees a green glow. It seemed almost unreachable, as if a figment of her mind resulting from being immersed in the darkness for so long. Esmeray presses onward, and whispers begin to creep along the corridor. She takes note of small glowing fungi along the walls as she draws nearer and nearer to the green illumination. It grows almost vein-like. They cluster and grow more abundant as she moves onward, the glow pulsating steadily. Soon enough, she can see everything. Moss, various fungi and flora, all illuminated by the eerie glow that compelled her. Finally, with a burst of the light, the source comes into view. She blinks, struggling to see as the light grew stronger once she found herself close enough. Her eyes widen slightly, curious and almost frightful.

She is faced with a creature - seemingly covered in the pulsating, glowing fungus that lead her here. Admittedly, she was anxious. She takes a step back, curling her tail over her haunches as she does so. The creature does the same. Her heart rate spikes. She flicks her tail, the creature does the same. A breath shudders for a moment in her chest, and she holds it for a moment. Her dark eyes dart over the creature that mimics her every move. Only to realize…it was her. How could it be? What was this thing? What were it’s intentions? Would it hurt her? Questions buzz in her mind, seeming to echo immediately. The clusters of fungi on the wall pulsate with every thought, her own questions whispering and reverberating off the corridor. She holds back the urge to scream, panicked by the situation as a whole.

“Who are you?” She pleads, her voice cracking from lack of use.

“₩ⱧØ ₳ⱤɆ ɎØɄ?” it only echoes back at her, a plume of spores release as it’s mouth opens.

Esmeray’s skin prickled, unnerved by the fungal iteration of her. Yet, she was curious as to what was in the path beyond where this…thing…stood. She tries to peer around it, but can barely see beyond the glow and the plume of spores that still lingered. An idea came to mind, and she would attempt to maneuver in a way that she could utilize the creature’s movements to work for her, not against her. She steps closer, and it matches her step. She begins to swerve left and it mirrors her. Esmeray’s movements were cautious and her eyes never left the creature. She swings her haunches behind her, now having swapped with the fungal being. She backs away, creating space between her.

She spins to face away from it, looking back, only to see that it had continued to mimic her movements. She moves forward, picking up her pace to an urgent trot and continues into the darkness. She breathes heavily once she is shrouded in darkness once more. Tears has welled in her eyes and the breaths were heavy. Perhaps she should have left Imogen and the crew after all. It was too late to fret over that now. She had to carry onward, and at this point she dared not look back.