They entered the cavern, sunlight fading behind them like the last shred of common sense.
Cold, damp air greeted them, sending a chill across their skin. The cave floor was uneven, peppered with shallow holes — not deep enough to fall in, but just deep enough to stick a finger in if you were stupid.
Above, stalactites clung to the ceiling, dripping water at irregular intervals. Every plink echoed through the chamber, giving the place a slow, eerie rhythm.
As they moved forward, Finn's eyes caught something on the wall — a single straight line drawn in white. A trail mark.
"The adventurers…" he muttered, narrowing his eyes.
He stepped up to the wall and ran his finger across the marking. A fine dust rubbed off.
'Chalk…' he thought, grinning to himself.
Without hesitation, Finn rubbed the mark away. Slowly. Deliberately. Laughing under his breath like a cartoon villain.
