"I'm glad you reached out," Crispin says, glancing to and fro; the cavern they're at the edge of is firelit and fire-hot, and if Chelle squints, she can see the shadowed form of something- or many somethings- lurking in the shadows that await them.

"An odd time to be grateful," she observes; her tone is as dry as the dirt beneath their hooves. The two Coursers consider the path ahead for a moment; both seem unwilling to take the first step into what will undoubtedly be trouble.

"Perhaps," Crispin agrees, "but I'd yet to truly explore these new paths. The earthquake certainly changed things."

Chelle makes a thoughtful noise, breath gusting out in a great heave. Lock and Key has been dealing with the fallout from said earthquake- a great and terrible shaking that had collapsed tunnels and opened others, causing the surveying guild no end of trouble- for weeks now. She remembers the terror of it; perhaps, though, that fear had been fed by the other strange occurrences that night.

Usually she would have been in the dungeon; something, though, had kept her on the surface. A feeling in her gut, trepidation and anxiety combining into something heavy that she simply could not ignore. Instead, Chelle had been returning home. She'd been spending so much time at the Guild's headquarters that she'd neglected the small cabin she keeps further up the mountain- made for her by a group of craftsmen from the Wandering Winds- and had immediately gotten to work setting things to rights. Dusting and reorganizing had taken up a good chunk of the day; she'd only really wrapped up everything at sunset.

Relaxing in her own home had been incredibly rejuvenating. The Guild headquarters were nice, of course, but her own bedding...And so many good memories. It may be a more lonely place, so far from other Coursers, but it was hers. She'd added a few new trinkets and trappings, changed out some older furniture, and despite her love for exploring the dungeons...There were no entrances near the cabin. It was its own brand of peace.

The moon that had risen that night had been blood red, haunting and entirely unsettling. The earth shifting not long after it had reached its apex had felt like the world was ending around her- all her hard work cleaning and reorganized ruined in moments.

It had taken all morning the next day to set things to rights, and then she'd recieved summons from the Guild shortly after. Back down the mountain she'd gone.

She'd taken it for an ill omen, despite her resistance to believe in superstition- a belief that had been confirmed when the ground had begun to heave beneath her hooves. The next day had revealed a plethora of changes to the dungeon and surface. Some claimed that the Harvester had returned; certainly more undead creatures and spirits had been sighted in the Ruined Kingdom below, but Chelle was more certain that their emergence had been caused by the disturbance the earthquake had caused. So many graves upended, so many ruins destroyed...

"Do you believe in this Harvester business?"

Crispin looks surprised at the question; he turns from the cavern ahead of them to meet her eyes.

"I never took you for the superstitious sort," he says carefully, "not in all these years have you worrieed about such things."

Chelle shifts, frowning slightly. "You have to admit it's quite the coincidence, that an earthquake would strike during a harvest moon."

"I don't need convincing; you know that," Crispin replies; a wry smile twists his lips. "I think the pieces certainly fit. It's not as though we haven't seen magic at work."

Chelle sighs, tail lashing as she considers his words.

"We should keep moving," she finally says, truly unable to decide on her feelings regarding the matter.

Crispin nods, returning his red-eyed stare to the cavern ahead. "Do you suppose we could go down that eastern path? The old maps say that there are a few caverns on the wall that direction; we should check to see if they're still usable."

"After you."

The two Coursers walk on.