“Cave bugs.” Reaper complained. “Why did it have to be cave bugs?”

The swarm buzzed a bit beyond his reach. The acrid buzz of thousands of angry bugs brought Reaper back from the pit his thoughts had turned into. He glanced down at the lower reaches of the floor below. Still a swarming cloud of very angry cave bugs.

“Yeah,” He sighed. “I’m going to be stuck on this ledge for a while, aren’t I?”

So Reaper sat down on the ledge mere centimeters away from the poisonous lake with an annoyed click of his tongue. The slow buzz did not stop as he sat down, merely grew. Those bugs surely were persistent.

This debacle started a few hours ago. Reaper had once again delved into the dungeon. Hooves clicked against worn stones as he pranced along empty halls. It was a dry night but in this first layer down that did not matter. The Overgrown Caverns were always, always wet. Always damp too. He scoffed at the ragged green dragging through his mane. Always damp, always wet just like the dungeon. Always a mess. Like he was. The parallels, he thought, would write themselves.

Back to the bugs. Introspection over, Reaper decided he was not ready yet to think about a life beyond the dungeon and so he had trogged on through the green. And as luck would have it, he stepped into a giant cloud of bugs. So, so many bugs. And not the nice kind he found last time, no, unlike his first dungeon trip these were biting bugs. A lot of cave bugs that fed on nasty things with an even nastier sting.

“Nope.” Reaper said, and turned to gallop out. The bug's buzz reached him quickly. A large amount of beetles raced in over the upper wing and he ducked down just in time for the swarm to slam into the wall. Not one to waste that opportunity he picked his pace and raced back down the way he came. Of course, he had the bad luck to finally stumble right into another long hallway.

“Wrong turn.” He snapped at himself. No time. The bugs were quickly closing in. Racing down the hall he did his best to speed up. Closer the end of the row grew, and so did his grin. It fell soon after. That was not the path he thought it was. He kept running at full speed, the pounding of his hooves loud against the ground flowing to dirt.

And then he jumped.

The lake seared his skin as he flew overhead. Hooves scrambled onto the ledge’s edges as he heaved himself up them. Fear soared as for a moment he felt like he could fall. Then his hind-legs found the ledge and he heaved himself up. Something the swarm did not do. They did not follow. He had been prepared to turn and leap over them, but they stayed at the lake’s edge. Cave bugs hated the lakes and animals that lived in them, apparently, though Reaper was not sure.

That led to the now. He steeled his nerve and faced the swarm again. Flying lower. He took a deep breath in, calmly braced himself, and jumped.