The trail had frayed so gradually that it had unraveled imperceptibly until the gap between a mossy rock and the slimy wall had suddenly become as tempting as the narrow ledge illuminated by some distant skylight.

With a ponderous pause, Lancer wondered if perhaps he'd made a wrong turn somewhere along the way to end up at a junction he couldn't recall having encountered before. Naturally, becoming lost once in a while came with the territory and was a risk all Coursers embraced each time they ventured forth.

Nothing for it but to keep moving. At this moment it was still possible to turn back—only a step forward into spaces too narrow would remove that opportunity—yet turning tail holds no appeal for a Courser untethered by immediate peril.

Forward, then.

"Which way shall we go, Sebastian?" Lancer asked, casting a backwards glance over his shoulder at the large ruddy toad he'd met just hours ago.

Sebastian blinked, as toads often do. Only one eye at first, and then the other.

"I ought to have known you would choose the damp way over the dry path."

Nevertheless, Lancer stepped lightly into the gap between a rock and a hard place.