Mya entered the cavern, bucket in hand. The flickering light of her torch illuminated cracked and crumbling steps. Down, down, down she traveled until the air became stifling with its warmth. Chains and iron bars rattled at the end of her decent. Tremors shook her frail body. She gnawed at her lip searching for any sign of teeth or claws beyond the iron bars.
Golden eyes appeared, a light flickered inside of a maw filled with rows of teeth. Mya slung the contents of her bucket through the bars, filling the room with its soured stench. The frenzy of shrieks and flashes of fire didn’t follow her up the stairs this time.