Chartose dismounted at the entrance, and then nodded to Tricia, giving her a non-verbal cue to climb a tree and keep a good watch over the other mounts. The cut on his arm stung a bit, but the bleeding had been stopped and it was now covered; good enough to prevent infection, but anything with a scent for blood would know there was something wounded in the woods.

Not being huddled in the open like the other mounts, Tricia could hide up in the trees and be somewhat calm, and Chartose hoped that the smarter mounts would know they weren't being left totally defenseless as the rest of the party went inside. The architecture seemed a bit off-putting, with everything sloping-in to give a very claustrophobic environment.

Like trying to shove a cat into a box, the charr tried to do things differently by climbing upon one of the side-ledges to watch from above while they came to an open door to an unlit and non-descript interior.

[color=6ecff6]"Whether that door was meant to keep us out, or keep something in, it appears it has failed."[/color] Chartose observed, again pointing-out the obvious as though he thought that giving someone a dead mouse was a present. Which was actually ironic since they haven't encountered any dead mice yet.