His first steps into the small, dying town thumped softly against the dirt. There was a gloom over this place that he could not quite name, and an old, hunched over bug that seemed lost, staring passed an empty bench and over the empty town. Disturbing him seemed almost rude, but Quirrel needed information.

"Hello, kind sir."

"Oh," The elderly bug stood straighter, the promise of company, even for just a minute, renewing some hope. "Not many people stop to say hello. I'd ask what brings you here, but I'm no fool."

"Ah," There wasn't much to be said. Who could linger in such a place when mystery called just below its surface? Quirrel made polite conversation for a few minutes, before inquiring about the entrance and whatever information the Elderbug had.

"Many travel through Hallownest, but not too many bugs return. Lost in dream or decaying, most likely."

"Perhaps I will surprise you again then, sir." The Elderbug merely smiled sadly, but after Quirrel left, he could not help but wonder if he had already met the bug before. He had appeared young and agile, but there was an age over him that Elderbug knew far too well: he had seen more, lived more, endured more than most. Perhaps the odd bug would live to return.

Quirrel didn't have such high hopes. Every footfall echoed in the vast, dark halls. The fall from the well hadn't been too bad, but what met him down in that dark was hard to describe. Faces of bugs glowed with a sickly light, bodies' dead but eyes alight with a vigor that wasn't their own. He used his nail without mercy, for this place would show him none.

The first stop was simple. Anyone who had heard of Hallownest knew of the temple near the surface, or at least what all assumed was a temple. There was much lost to time, but the looming black egg gave off an air of both peace and nervousness, hope and terror. If not a shrine to a lost religion, what else could the place be? Three mask outlines were etched into the egg, but one in particular caught his eye.

Quirrel wasn't sure how long he stared into it, letting a strange familiarity wash over him. Sadness and fondness swirled in his mind until he felt dizzy. His hand reached up, as if to caress the familiar weight upon his head. As his hand slid over it, movement in his peripherals caused him pause.

It looked like a child. He wasn't sure when it had appeared there, how long it had stood at his side before looking straight up, but Quirrel knew he couldn't let his guard down like that. He might be near the surface still, but dangers were everywhere and death would be swift for those that forgot awareness. Death, or dreams. The creature seemed strong, but there was something unsettling about it. No matter, he thought. Seeing as the child hadn't tried to harm him, he would extend it the same companionship he had offered the Elderbug.

"Hello there! How delightful to meet another traveler on these forgotten roads…" No matter what he said, he got the same empty yet piercing gaze back. Normally, if you looked long and hard enough, you could see a bug's face passed the mask. Perhaps it was just the lighting, but the darkness within the creature seemed all consuming. Was it even a bug? Who knew what other things could lurk in the dark.

No matter how wary he tried to be, no matter how unnerving his new friend was, he had a faint glimmer of hope looking at the young thing. If it was a bug, it was a small one or a child, but it didn't stop him from having the illogical feeling that everything could be righted as long as the little one survived. It was a stark contrast to the helplessness he was beginning to feel standing in the temple.

"Hmm…" When he looked own again, his friend was gone. He too should carry on then. There was, after all, plenty to explore.