Firefly Ravine the rabbit hole never to be found

Companionable silence—if it could be called that—took no time to envelope them. Where he had thought to take the lead it had been usurped by the passing of Atomsk; this hardly phased him as he fell in step to follow. For now he was content to take stock of what lay ahead of them as the minutes were left to unfold. The rest would fall into place where it deemed best, however randomly that may be.

But as it were, he enjoyed conversation and it was not long into their venture he found his wonders coming to life off his lips—his mouth opened to say something when a pungent aroma prompted him to close it again. The rush of the ravine was louder here, the tattered strand of earth they walked rough and weary from decades of weathering the test of time.

"Smell that?" Surely his companion did. "I'd venture a guess something had a nasty spill off the side." It was a distinct sort, the smell of decay and a certain staleness he could not place. Instinct alone suggested it had been left for dead for some time, and Dirge stopped to peer curiously off the edge with unabashed interest. It was a long drop; he would have whistled if he had been able to.

But the pair moved on shortly thereafter, and onward along their northern course.