Alongside mountains of loot, the Dungeons were full of mysteries. While Hakea had less interest in the lost history of the Coursers homelands than others, sometimes a particularly novel tidbit of their past would catch her attention.

Like this piece right here. See, the delicate embroidery on the leather of this long-dead Coursers bridle. This was art beyond anything a Courser could make – stitches so fine they blended into each other, tiny hares surrounded by tinier leaves, no bigger than a whisker. This kind of art could only be found in the Dungeons, made by odd, spindly, nimble fingers long dead.

The owner of said odd, spindly fingers stood near the bridle, phantasmal hands gently stroking the skulls muzzle.

While Hakea was always one for barging into a situation and subtlety be damned, she had enough wits to know when to leave someone be. Even in the ghosts odd, flat face and stiff ears, the chestnut mare could read love in those strokes. Whatever bond this Courser and their ghost had once had, it had been strong. A bond strong enough to last after lifetimes buried underground, long after both their bodies had withered to dust.

Hakea always wondered about many of the habits of the creatures of old. What were those odd metal bars behind the teeth on the bridle for? Who did the sigils the ghost and the skull both wore represent?

Ah, mysteries that she wouldn’t unearth. She was content to let those secrets sleep.

...Oh? The ghost had stopped stroking the skull. It was staring directly at Hakea – no, right behind her. She froze, all her muscles tensing – and gave a short squeal of shock as a ghostly form lumbered past her.

Oh.

So this was the owner of the skull, then.

A ghostly Courser, dressed in resplendent armour and with eyes only for the figure by it’s skull, soundlessly loped to the ghost. While the humans face was hard to read, the coursers was not – joy radiated from the ghostly courser, and even with how bitter and misanthropic Hakea was, the sight of the ghostly figures reuniting was enough to bring a smile to her muzzle.

The human looked over at Hakea, and whispered something to it’s companion. The Courser nodded, and looked over at Hakea as well. It smiled, and gestured at the fine bridle, before nodding at Hakea.

It’s yours.

Ignoring the living mares shock, the two ghosts turned, and slowly walked away, in perfect step with each other. As the figures disappeared, Hakea slowly got to her feet, trembling slightly as the last of the adrenaline left her system. Stumbling to the bridle, she admired the fine piece of art that she had been – gifted? Given? Bridles like this were a rarity, and besides it’s monetary value, it was also very pretty. A more treasure-hungry Courser would have immediately sold it, and goodness knows that Hakea’s family would have expected her to sell it and give the bulk of the proceeds to them.

But with the distance of a dead kingdom between her and her kin, it was easier to be selfish, just this once. It was so pretty, and she had so few pretty things – surely this once, she could allow herself to have something nice?
She would have to figure out how to get rid of that odd metal thing, though...