Dungeon diving was hard work, and Corvus wasn’t against getting a bit of beauty rest in the middle of it. To her, presentation was everything; a messy, exhausted exterior could only mirror something similar on the inside. Thankfully, she had a pretty good internal clock, and would only nap for an hour or so before instinct awoke her. She was a light sleeper, too, so if anything threatening were to draw near, she would be back on her hooves in the blink of an eye. She wasn’t too worried about that, though. The small chamber she’d chosen to rest in was relatively isolated from the rest of the dungeon.

Old legends claimed that pixies were drawn to the vain and conceited. No one knew why, but it was said they enjoyed playing tricks on them, enjoyed watching their inflated egos crumble. Naturally, Corvus wouldn’t have ever admitted that these creatures might be drawn to her, but denial of one’s nature did nothing to change it.

When she awoke from her brief reprieve, she began to gather her belongings and realized that not only were they not where she’d left them – they’d been moved several tail-lengths to the right – but they were also uncharacteristically sparkly. The strap of her leather satchel had dozens, no, hundreds of tiny, glittering gems embedded across its length. Her pauldrons had met a similar fate, and even the faux raven wings that curled outward from the dark steel had little rhinestones dotting the tip of each feather.

Needless to say, the dark mare was horrified. Not only was the bedazzling completely atrocious to look at – none of the gems were the same color, and they were gaudy as all get out – but it would do her no favors in the stealth department as she traversed the rest of this dungeon. The gemstones caught even the smallest slivers of light and seemed to reflect it back tenfold. She’d surely look like a walking night sky.

With an annoyed huff, she reluctantly donned her newly-blinged gear, and as she made her way toward the chamber’s exit, she passed a small pool of still water, likely formed from the dripping stalactites over her head. She couldn’t venture back out into the dungeon without first making sure she looked the part of a fierce, brave explorer. She stepped up to the pool’s edge and peered down into the water, freezing at the reflection that stared back at her.

The dark steel chanfron that matched her pauldrons was also studded with the pinhead-sized jewels, extending even to the raven wings that spread beneath her eyes. Her nostrils flared in disgust, and she hurried away from the pool, barreling back into the dungeon fueled by a newfound rage – she’d find whoever or whatever had done this to her armor and flatten them beneath her hooves.

She didn’t, of course. Pixies were shy, fickle creatures. If they didn’t want to be found, they wouldn’t be.

Thankfully, when she finally fled the dungeon – just after sunset – the tiny gems seemed to melt off of her belongings, and by the time she returned home, everything looked exactly as it had this morning.