Further and further they went, with Yvan reaching out to hold Ryoto's hand; such an action made it hard to carry his new prize though, eventually settling with him tucking it under his armpit as they wound through the tunnels. It was confusing, but damn did he try, holding his glaive closer every time they had to circle back to the others.

At least Vestyge's mighty crash helped them locate the way. Although, it was certainly loud, and the consequences were obvious once they'd come to the bottom. At once, Yvan's heart dropped to his stomach at the massive, feral beast, taking notice of them and encompassing them with a roar of total fury.

"Fuck!"

Yvan leapt in front of Ryoto, full of sheer protectiveness and snarling as best as something human-adjacent could. He'd never faced something like this; even with the others around him, he couldn't trust them, not with the panic already beginning to set in. How could something be that big? He couldn't keep his muscles from trembling, tail nearly coiling into knots while his wings rose like readied blades.

What do they do? What can he do? What could his sword even do against something like this? He needed to get himself together or else he'd lose Ryoto. Worse, she could lose him. There was no way out other than through.

Panting in fear, Yvan willed all of his magic through the metal of his blade, sparks winding through his arm and down the length and lurching forward towards the massive Squallfang. "Holy shit!" The force of the spell's electricity rattled through him and sent him stumbling back. His skin tingled, and he could barely watch to see if his attack even hit anywhere near the mark.

Richter's mind tended toward serenity. Occasionally ripples of nervous energy stirred upon its surface, but they never lasted long. Confidence and the urge to contemplate all he observed often restored this state before more distressing thoughts could potentially overwhelm him. Nevertheless, these didn't preclude him from a natural reaction to a titan emerging from deep waters and loosing a threatening roar. Reverberations carried throughout the enormous cavern and settled within his bones. Taken somewhat aback by the ferocity displayed, ears flattened against his skull, yet he didn't immediately jump to either fight or flight. Momentary paralysis due to surprise resulted in the kangaroo drinking in the troublesome scene—not just the Squallfang, but also the nest comprised of riches and surrounded by the possessions of those who'd dared oppose it in the past.

Trespassers in another's territory, had these deaths been due to enraging a protective beast? What were the odds the previous adventurers had attacked first instead of deciding to leave gathered treasure be? Perhaps they would've lived had they simply been stealthy and avoided raising alarm slipping by the eggs sitting in front of the exit. Or maybe the Squallfang's senses had been too keen, and they'd indeed practiced caution to no success. And then there was the third possibility: they'd blundered onto the location just as Vestyge had, their demise a stroke of bad fortune and nothing more.

Either way, the group of the present was now being forced into a similar confrontation. Whether the results would be a repeat depended upon how they acted now.

Difficult to backtrack hostilities once multiple of theirs had already struck. This didn't deter Richter from trying to inject some calm into a situation likely escalated far beyond the point of peaceful resolution. Though poised to leap out of the path of the Squallfang should it charge, he spoke as if it had some semblance of deeper understanding despite well knowing otherwise.

"I, uh, know you're very upset, but I'd like to... ah, apologize for my friends. They didn't mean to disturb you or hurt you much. You just startled them a bunch is all. So why don't we take a breath and not eat anyone yet?"

He stared into those angry red eyes, willing them to blink and for the glint within to settle into something less savage and bloodthirsty.

The tunnels were long and winding - but Survivor's ears picked up the sound of the waves below. It wouldn't take long to hone in on the path forward, lit by the outside cavern. Ignoring the treasure and the nest, it was already a beautiful sight (if a horribly disordered one). But that nest proved that it was already spoken for.

And then the owner emerged from the surf, clearly just as surprised to have company. The Squallfang stared for a good while, before actually moving to protect itself and its young.

The Survivor only has a moment, but they already have an idea. The big scary dinosaur is clearly trying to protect its young. Maybe, it could get it to turn its attention back to its nest. Picking up a rock, it turned to throw it, aiming for the pile of treasure the eggs were nestled in. If they're lucky, they'd disturb the nest enough to get the Squallfang to turn and check up on them, but not actually damage the eggs to make it any angrier.

Hrimfaxi liked the little golden thing. They liked the kind words it whispered to them. Hrimfaxi flicked it over their nose, shaking their neck until it slid down, settling on their chest. They followed after Richter, humming in thought at the textures he described. Hrimfaxi wasn't too sure they'd experienced all of that, some things gave when they stepped on them, although stone didn't. One thing was for certain though-- Hrimfaxi wanted to try moss.

Hrimfaxi stuck behind Richter, enchanted by the chatty kangaroo. They sent strands of their magicka throughout their body, strengthening the ice, thickening it, in case something were to attack while they were also not paying attention.

Hrimfaxi climbed down into the cavern, eyes wide. They drank in the beauty of it, the glistening gold, as well as the nest. Hrimfaxi had never seen a nest, so the rounded eggs within were a great mystery. Against their best interests, they trotted towards them. That was all quick to end when they heard the bellow of its owner. Hrimfaxi turned, eyes wide. Hrimfaxi tried desperately to summon some magic--any magic, anything to cover themselves in spikes, make themselves look big, scary, and tough to eat. The end result was not that, though. Hrimfaxi's ice wobbled, collapsing back in on itself and reforming, until they found themselves stuck in place, looking like a horse on a kebab, complete with a stick pinning them to the ground.

The train would uhm… open up its mouth hidden underneath its tire tentacles and basically swallow the whole gathering—item, skeletons, and all.

The train would flare a variety of colors upon getting back out of the pool and seeing the unfurling maze, perhaps trying to express some wordless emotion. It would begin its slow and tenuous navigation; not knowing where it was supposed to go seems to take quite a bit of effort for the train.

It is difficult to blame a train for not knowing which path to take when the rails are not set ahead of it. It ran into… a lot of dead ends. But fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, the inability to truly express or ventilate a lot of frustration by verbal means at least gave the train an air of patience as it slowly meandered through the tunnels.

Perhaps late to the party, the train’s single ocular pair would scan the surrounding Squallfang problem before the flesh puppet tucked back into the train’s head entirely. The train would then begin its contribution to the battle by making a mad dash for… the eggs? If allowed in decent proximity, the train would attempt to tentacle-fling (don’t ask.) itself above the eggs with an open mouth and come crashing down into the nest, storing whatever or whichever eggs it could into its body.

The eventually settled on a breastplate they noticed. It, in a way, fulfilled all requirements - obviously enchanted, nice looking, and while not a "weapon of great power", it would be useful if they found themselves in combat.

Buckley frowned. "It's a little big, isn't it?" Ishani hummed a note of agreement as she observed the piece. From the back, Gore snorted. "Drape it over me. I'll carry it out." It took a bit of struggling and maneuvering, but the three of them managed to get the breastplate to sit over Gore's back. A little awkward, but it wouldn't fall with the goat keeping an eye on it.

Satisfied, they continued forward, Buckley immediately giving up on picking which route to take, feeling more then a little nervous moving ahead of anyone, and instead spread out his senses to check for danger that might be ahead.

"Buckley is speaking!" "GORE IS SPEAKING!!!" "Ishani is speaking..."

Buckley felt it, as they approached. There was a lot of feedback - there were more then a few gembound here - but there was something massive below them. The other two sensed it as well, and had quite different reactions to it. Ishani immediately tried to pull them back. "Danger...danger! Don't go down there!" while Gore lit up like a christmas tree. "A WORTHY ADVERSARY IS BELOW US! COME, LET US FIGHT!! FIGHT!!! FIGHT!!!!"

Its excitement momentarily took over and the Triage could not help but follow the others down the ramp and into the Squallfang's territory. A feral gleam was radiating from the goat head while the other two glanced at each other, bewildered and scared. What had they gotten themselves into?

Ishani wanted to leave, she continued to hiss and spit and tug in the opposite direction, but Buckley was eyeing the treasure around, and the other gembound preparing for the combat. "What if...we help? Come on," he looked directly at Ishani. "We're not going to change its mind, you know that." The snake glared back, at Buckley, and then at Gore, who was staring at her expectantly.

Her tongue flickered with annoyance. "Fine. But be smart about it. And if we get hurt, that's on you. Don't make me say 'I told you so'." Gore threw its head back and crowed to the ceiling as the body of Triage leaped forward. The goat's head lifted magnificently (as far as it would go, which wasn't far) and screamed in a shrill, joyous voice - "HEY BIG UGLY LIZARD, YOU ARE ABOUT TO FACE THE MIGHT OF BLOODGORE, TERROR OF THE CAVES!! TREMBLE BEFORE ME!!"

The other two were already regretting their decision to allow this to happen.

"Buckley is speaking!" "GORE IS SPEAKING!!!" "Ishani is speaking..."

Hecate shrieked.

Yes, her eyes were covered in shell. Yes, she had a moment there--hallucinations still running wild--where she thought the entire group turned and waggled... eyebrows? Trainbrows?... at her.

But the Squallfang was impossible to miss. She'd fluttered down, about to land, when it erupted from the water--and now she was flying high, half-blind eyes wide. Hecate wasn't one to swear, but "holy shit" seemed appropriate here, even if she didn't actually utter those words.

It almost, for a moment, seemed like there might be peace. But then someone dove for the nest--and that was bad. Who DID that?! Maybe it was a bird's instinct, but going for a parent's eggs--Hecate could guess what might come next. She winced, fear spiking in her, and lashed out with her magic.

Thinking fast, she reached for one of the smaller boulders around the room. It was not a large boulder, just a small boulder, the size of a small boulder. Maybe two feet tall. Hard to lift, but heavy enough to make an impact if it hit. Her magic lobbed it--a headache immediately raged in her head, but she sort of tossed it "underhand" (albeit with magic) toward the Squallfang's head.