Headed by a Snake

Tres Leches lied flat on the dungeon floor and opened his mouth for a big, lazy yawn.

Life was fleeting.

Humans are born. They eat in order to live. They make pups.

Then... they die.

Tres Leches followed the same rules-- more or less.

He was a big chunk of dark iron, hammered into shape by nice people with long beards.

Though he didn't need to eat to survive, he liked being rewarded with treats.

Some sun in the future, he hoped to find a female-awakened-chunk-of-metal.

She'd be very strong-- just like him.

She'd also smell very nice...

They'd fall in love. They'd make pups together.

And just the same... some sun, his consciousness would lull and he'd never wake up again.

Tres was fine with that.

At one point in his life, he declared he lived only for meat jerky and head pats.

His human, Lone, was a little different.

Was it 'okay' for him to live how he did?

The reason he was anxious... was probably because of Pack Leader Tycon.

He said that there was something more than living for... 'hedonistic desires'-- he called it.

He called it... potential.

He said that-- for Lone, realizing his potential was just as important to him as eating to live and eventually making pups.

Potential.

It took a long time for Tres Leche to understand what that meant.

The reason to eat was to grow big and strong. By being big and strong, a wolf could protect his or her pack.

The reason to make pups was to ensure the pack survives. As long as the pack survives, a wolf was unafraid of death.

Lone pursuing 'potential' was to make him the biggest, fastest, strongest, and overall good-est human he could possibly be.

From how the snake explained it, it would be *irresponsible* for Lone not to do that.

After the two finished their breakfast, Lone sat with his back to a big rock, cradling his stomach like he was with pups.

"Y'know, Tres," He said... "I miss Boss."

Tres Leches nodded in agreement before snuggling with his partner to comfort him.

The snake always knew the tastiest monsters to capture and the best-smelling vegetables and mushrooms to roast. He always had magic herbs or spices to flavor the meats, too.

Being around him always made Tres Leches feel... safe.

That was the best trait a pack leader could have.

When Tres became a pack leader, himself, he wanted his pack to have that sort of feeling...

The snake was gone, though-- or maybe... he was just as lost as they were?

But even without Tycon... the pack was still out there, somewhere.

Sol Invictus.

Lone had to be strong for the pack... so Tres couldn't let him get fat and lazy.

Lone rolled over onto his side, "Whew. Now that that's done... I think I'll go back to sleep."

"(Nice try, partner,)" Tres used his snout to gently help his human get to his feet, "(Get up. Let's go back to the Dungeon.)"

"Uuuughhh. Do we have to?" Lone complained, "We completed allllll 50 floors a sun ago? And three suns before that!"

"(Yesterday *was* our break day,)" Tres growled. "(If we go all out, we can finish the Dungeon without resting even once.)"

Lone began to stretch-- but suddenly, he pumped his arms down.

"I just had a great idea!" He said, "Let's do something new!"

Something new? Tres felt his tail wagging again.

"(How about I teach you how to speak Wolf? It's been long enough, don't you think?)"

Lone folded his hands in front of his mouth for a moment... then raised his eyebrows, "How about... another single-element run? I haven't done wind yet."

...That was a little disappointing. But if that was what Lone wanted to do, that was fine.

"(That sounds fun,)" Tres put his paws forward and stretched his back, "(I'll be using my new elemental Skills, then... I think ⌈Shadow Claw⌋ and ⌈Drill Run⌋ would be good.)"

"Wait wait wait," Lone waved his hand...

There was a strange look in the human's eyes... and his whole body shook.

And from the scent he was giving off...

Lone... was scared?

Tres picked up on it-- because of course he did! He was Lone's best friend. He knew everything about his human!

"Tres..." Lone whispered... "have I ever..."

"(What is it? What's wrong, human?)"

Lone gulped... and his lips trembled lightly... "Since we got here... have... I ever... pooped?"

Tres Leches blinked... and slowly tilted his head.

That was odd.

His partner hadn't pooped since they arrived in the fake Dungeon.

But... he was human! This was an emergency!

...

Barza Keith, the Lone Shadowdark, found a lot of things weird about the place that was supposed to be Turrim Orientem.

First off... he was pretty sure he'd already left that place-- and legally, too!

But... seeing how every stone, every chain, every pile of bones were exactly how he'd remembered it... the place was pretty convincing.

Another thing was... he hadn't seen a single other person besides himself.

Logically, other people were aboveground, where the inmate cells were.

Lone... considered going back up there.

There was probably mail from his girlfriend.

...There was probably *a lot* of mail from his girlfriend-- to the point that he really didn't want to deal with it.

Seven hells...

From what he remembered of the warden... that person really liked to send inmates down to the Dungeon... to their all-but-certain deaths.

Supposedly, clearing the monster populations every couple of moons would prevent a Dungeon Break from occurring.

According to popular opinion, though, the warden was just a heartless bastard.

Or maybe... that guy got replaced with someone else? Someone heart-ful?

Anyroad, there were more weird things about the place that was supposed to be 'Turrim Orientem.'

Lone had his partner with him, Tres Leches. That was cool.

Even the worst injuries he took in the Dungeon healed over time. That was cool too.

Whenever he closed his eyes, foreign memories of learning high-level Elf magics seeped into his brain.

He wasn't sure how he felt about that.

But one thing was far too strange to overlook...

Since the time he woke up in the Turrim Orientem Dungeon with Tres... he hadn't pooped even once.

"...Am I going to die?"

",