"You are wrong ones," said a deep voice. There was a growling hint to it, and a promise of predation. "Why you standing in wrong place?"

Big and Pure clumsily got to their feet, stumbling in the pure darkness of where they were. "Who's there?" asked Pure.

"We were walking, not standing," said Big with a loud angry snort, "And who are you to go yanking us down here. You could have hurt something." She didn't sound hurt in her angry fuming.

"You standing, or I not catch you. No matter, can't put you back. My name is," said the unknown male before he gave two barks and a whine, "But you call me Brightstone."

"I can't call you anything," said Pure, "Please wait one moment." He had not practiced the spell much, but there was never more urgent need for it. He wove his hooves over the ground as he spoke the arcane words. With a faint sizzle of gathered magic, several motes of light fitfully appeared around him, allowing the two ponies to behold the bipedal canine, or was it a hyena? that stood before them.

It had shaggy brown fur, and stood about as tall as a human might. Its eyes were a deep blue, matching the glittering gemstones there were woven into its fur and along the dreadlocks that it had fashioned his hair into.

"That's better," exclaimed Big Dreams as she reached to pat Pure on the head, "Didn't know you knew magic. You little devil, hiding things from me?"

The shaggy creature tilted its head one way and the other are the two, "How you make light without torch or lantern? Are you wizard, maybe shaman? Is good trick."

Pure blushed in his nose as the praise, "I'm still learning. Dad says I'll be great at it eventually. Um, you said your name was Brightstone, sir?"

Brightstone nodded quickly, "Yes, that is my name. What is your names?"

Despite his poor grammar, he seemed friendly enough, and the Pure was quick to reply, "I'm Pure Water, and she's Big Dreams. Do you know how we got down here?"

"Big? I can see she big. What is her name?" he asked, sounding confused.

"Big Dreams," said Big, "That is my name. Nice to meet you, mister Brightstone. Was that your hand I saw just before we ended up down here?"

He put one of his big furry hands behind his head, rubbing lightly as he made a nervous sound, "Um, yes. I was supposed to get someone else, not you, but you here now. Why you wear metal shoes?"

Pure looked surprised and examined Big over again as she rolled her eyes, "Yes, I do have striking horsehoes. What of it?" She lifted one of her hooves to expose the device, just as deadly as the guards.

"How did you not make the noises while walking with those?" asked Pure with wide eyes.

"Practice. What does it matter? A mare is allowed to defend herself."

Pure shook his head but didn't argue the matter further.

Brightstone pointed at her hoof as it settled back on the ground, "Quiet, maybe, still heard it. I supposed to wait for metal shoes, then grab. Expected boy pony, adult, with armor. Not really big girl pony pup."

Just as suddenly he cocked his head and his ears perked up. The ponies imitated the gesture, trying to hear what he heard. There was a faint shuffling in the distance, sounding like it was echoing down many tunnels. "They're coming. They can't find you. I'll get in trouble, and they may hurt you. You are nice ponies. Follow me."

Without waiting for response, he turned down one of the many available tunnels and began walking. The two followed after him with a concerned shared glance. The tunnel was rough hewn, comprised of dirt and stone in even amounts. It was clearly made by intelligent hands, far too smooth for nature's touch. They were just wide enough for Big and Brightstone to get through, though that left plenty of room for Pure to trot along beside his bigger friend.

"Where are we going?" asked Pure, but Brightstone just made a shh noise at him with an upheld finger as he walked along. The light balls that Pure had summoned drifted along beside them as they went, casting its varying colored lights over the three and creating dancing shadows along the nooks and crannies of the tunnel.

The tunnel suddenly expanded, turning into a cavern large enough that none could see how far it went. Far below, at least fifty feet, faint glowing moss revealed the outline of what appeared to be buildings in disrepair, lost in the darkness. "We safe here," said Brightstone, "This is favorite place. Others do not like, say is haunted. Stupid."

"Why do you talk so funny," asked Big Dreams suddenly.

"What?" he replied, "I talk aboveground good. Better than others. I get words wrong? You two talk funny."

"She didn't mean anything bad," quickly insisted Pure Water, "You just have an accent, that is all, sir. It's a nice one," he fibbed with a smile, "You do talk very well. Did you teach yourself?"

"Yes," he agreed with a wagging tail, "Watched abovegrounders long time and listened. I learn many words. Better. Do you speak belowground?" he asked, raising a shaggy brow.

Both shook their heads and he sighed, "Figured. Is ok, I talk your words."

"What is this place?" asked Pure, gesturing with a hoof down at the dimly visible city below.

"It looks like an old city," opined Big as she leaned over the edge for a better look. "Very old."

"Yes, very old. Here before I was. I not know who made it. Mostly safe," said Brightstone as he swung over the edge, hands clenched tightly around a rope as he started bouncing down the side of the cliff and descended swiftly.

The two looked at one another again before Pure stepped forward, "I'm good at climbing. I'll go first."

Big looked uncertain at this, "But if something happens, I'd rather be there first."

"You can't watch me all the time."

"I can while we're in a dark creepy cave with some weird dog person. Did you see his knife?"

"Knife?"

"Yea, under his vest. Saw it clear as day."

Pure thought back. He was wearing a vest, he hadn't even registered it. It was about the same color as his fur and also had jewels embedded in it, making it easy to lose with how well it blended with his fur. "Well you have striking shoes, and he didn't complain," he counter argued. "He seems nice."

"He might be," she agreed, "Or he might be leading us into a trap. He's not a pony. He's not even… something we know the name of. Just let me go first, ok?"

He nodded slowly, and she went to the edge. With a twist of her hooves, the striking horseshoes sprang out, steely tips designed to pierce. She grabbed the rope in her teeth and began descending, using her spiked hooves and careful pressure on the rope to control her rate as she went.