Sweltering rays of sun made every footfall Grace took, an agonizing step. Her boots were filled with sand, and a river of sweat ran down her face, dripping off the tip of her nose, or stinging her in the eyes. The hat she donned kept the glare of the sun out of her eyes, but did little to provide any cooled shade. Her white blouse, while typically loose, clung to her back as it were slick with sweat. Even the seat of her pants were damp from the overbearing heat. Leading the group, with the map rolled tight in one clenched hand, the mentality that kept her going, was the sole idea of reaching the Palm. Emmett had settled down, more or less, once they tied him to Othen, and for once, her ears obtained a rest, as she wandered in front, no more whining pipsqueak. Hopefully the heat had exhausted him to some degree. They had traveled for some time, and when Grace thought about stopping the group for a short rest and water break, she noticed the sand beneath her feet moving. At first, she thought she must be suffering from a bout of dehydration, or an onset of a heat stroke, for the ground underfoot, felt as if it had...[i]rumbled[/i]. Her gait slowed considerably, and then it happened again. Another rumble. The beating heart within her chest cavity started pounding vivaciously, the blood flow to her hands and feet ventured away from her outer extremities, giving her the sensation she danced on the verge of passing out; of course, this was not the case, rather she felt fear. She had heard in tales from the men to the east, of how the ground moved, quaked, and opened up, often times swallowing cities, or destroying entire villages. A sharp cry made it past her lips, but not before she felt herself plummeting downwards. Grace tried in vain to stop her descent, alas, there was nothing that she could grab a hold of.

[i]PHUMPF[/i]!

	What she expected to be a hard landing that ended in the chance of broken bones, Grace found that she had landed on her back. A tightening in her chest made it difficult for her to inhale, and it was then that she realized that the wind had been knocked from her lungs. A black array of pinpricks and bright colours filled her eyes as she stared up into nothingness. She could still hear, that was not lost in the fall, for she heard Emmett crying in fear. While she waited for her vision to clear, and to regain the breath in her lungs, Grace remained spread-eagle on the floor. Her rucksack had taken the brunt of the sudden fall, and when her vision began to clear, she felt the odd, sandy texture beneath her feet. Yet, this sand bore no resemblance to the sand above on the desert floor. It was black, like ashes. She remained on her back, as the pain in her chest had no subsided so easily, and found herself gazing back up at the world from which they were walking just moments ago. A patch of blue sky hung above the cavity in which the company had fallen into, making it easy for her to discern the different colours in the side of the sandy walls, transitioning from a soft tawny hue, into a charcoal black, Grace questioned if this cavern had underwent some form of catastrophic change in the soil, such as a burning.

	By the time breathing became more acceptable to her body, Grace caught wind of Emmett's words, apparently the boy lost his vision, as well as witnessed some woman, who apparently stole his sight away. She couldn't decide if it were his hallucinations from the withdrawal, or if there truly was a woman. When Emmett so graciously addressed her as [i]Madam Matriarch[/i], she found the strength to utter a short laugh.

"Ha!" Grace forced herself into a kneeling position, her lungs still straining for air as she tried to speak, her voice coming out in a raspy strain. "Don' ye worry, nah. I didn't die in the fall, as much as ye would like for me to. If ye don' watch yer mouth ye little brat, I'll show ye what kind o' business I can stir up. So don' ye fookin' test me. Besides, ye would've come to this eventually. Better now or never, Emmett."

"Got the fookin' wind knocked outta me, give me a damned minute, eh?" Kneeling with her hands balled into fists on her knees, Grace encouraged her lungs to recover.

"Is anyone hurt?" She asked, it was imperative to know if anyone had suffered any form of injuries, as they would have to attend to that first before they could even consider finding a way out. Oddly, she felt a cool breeze in the area, one that she took to identifying as some passage way or tunnel nearby.