Drums... drums in the deep

She flicked her ear in acknowledgment of his comment, her laser focus overtaking all thoughts both from the new place to explore and her efforts to find any clues.

There were scents of other wolves for sure. Ignita swished her tail as she came across an old pickaxe. The handle was made of sturdy oiled wood, weathered and dry, but she could still smell the mineral oils and chemical polish over it. She moved on along the metal tracks, what were these for? They had interesting grooves and patterns that only humans made. The tracks were fascinating, how did they work, and why did they make these?

She was about to ask Basilisk about it, and even turned to him with her mouth open, when they came to a tumbled blockage in the tunnel. She snapped her mouth shut, her question was immediately answered as a cart was obviously half buried under the rubble. This tumble of rocks... The layer or dust and debris was considerably less disturbed than the other dead ends.

"Hang on." She called out, to keep Bas from moving on without her, "Something's not right here." The layer of dust wasn't as thick and settled as the other collapses. There were no crisscrossing tracks or trails of insects and prey around at various ages. There was maybe a few tracks that were only a few days old at the very least.
"This one's new." She said, pointing to the layer of debris, she looked up at the where the collapse originated above them, the hill of rubble would lead up to a new level of cavern above.
"Think I can get a look on the other side..." She mumbled before she started climbing the hill of freshly tumbled rocks.

"Speech"