Adrenaline rush! Pure, undiluted adrenaline! That's the only thing I can say about going to Krubera Raven after we encountered... well, let's just say, the local flavor. At first everything was fine! Darkness, dampness, impressive stalactites – everything is as it should be in a normal, healthy speleo campaign. Only now... in the depths of the cave, somewhere behind another thundering waterfall, we began to hear... laughter. It was deaf, shrill, so that the hair on his head stood on end. At first we attributed it to the effects of depth and fatigue, but the laughter was getting closer, more insistent!
And then the halt began. Tired and soaked, we huddled in our tents, finally hoping to rest. And then… Tickling! Gentle, cheeky, unbearably annoying tickling in the heels! I woke up from an unbearable itch, and then I saw HIM!
Brownie! Yes, a real brownie, only the size of a big rat and in some kind of shaggy shirt, like a peasant from an old Soviet cartoon! Only his eyes... his eyes were like two coals, piercing and angry! He tickled us in turn, giggling mockingly!
Panic! Screams! Squeals! We rushed out of the tents, frantically pulling on everything that was at hand! The brownie, that damned tickler-barabashka, was just mocking us, jumping briskly on the rocks! He seemed to be enjoying our horror!
In the end, we just escaped from the cave, leaving all our equipment there. We didn't come back for him. For nothing. We'd rather meet a bear than this... this little tormentor! I do not advise anyone to go down to Kruber-Raven. Believe me, there is something much more terrible at the depths than just darkness and dampness!