The incessant voices of the pixies buzzed in his ears, their wings humming not unlike warrior ants. Their audits attempted to hide in the gnarled mess of ropey green hair and found no such salvation from their berating. A massive, to the minuscule cretin that is, hoof had crushed some sort of twig structure in a mushroom cloud of spores as the fungi it had been built upon erupted beneath him. With a snort, they shooed those close enough to their face away. Heel overhead they went spinning, dropping from the hair some inches before righting themselves. Cthuhlu had no time to listen to the pathetic cries of lesser creatures. They should be thanking them, worshipping a beast their size, for not having caused more damage than what had already been done. Though the greater being attempted to leave, ignore the cacophony of voices of from those that were insects, the pixies refused.

        With flapping opalescent wings they chased the Dread One as they crossed the fungal beds looking for reprieve from their complaining. A long, matted tail snapped at the chasers with deft precision, throwing the fae from their course or at the very least causing them to pause. It only fueled their chagrin, and they pursued Cthuhlu with further vigor. Some dared near their visage again, and to those they shook or snapped their teeth at in clear threat. The patience of the Dread One only lasted for so long, and it was fragmentary at best. The clack of the teeth seemed to clap through the pixie's ears like thunder, their hands slapping to their heads to protect them from the sound. One by one the creatures retreated, leaving behind the pthahlo beast in a sea of faintly glowing shroom. A hulking shadow over this mushroom forest, Cthuhlu scanned through the darkness, and observed the stillness of the caps at fetlock height. There was silence, for a moment, before they heard it...

        A low hum that steadily built until it was a drowning buzz. Pixies rose from the fungus, sharpened splinters in hand and menace in their eyes. They jeered, thrust the weapons towards Cthuhlu, and surrounded him. Upon the face of the courser, a brow hitched and a clipped breath whispered from his nostrils.

        With their threat of battle seemingly dismissed, the pixies roared - which was no more than a simultaneous squeak - and dove toward the behemoth Dungeon Courser with their weapons at the ready.

        If it was a battle they wanted, it would be a battle they received.

        Cthuhlu shook his body as the pixies landed upon him, jabbing him with their thorn-sized weapons. Cries erupted as some tumbled off, but those that remained only stabbed harder. Another strike with his exposed teeth caught a pixie from the air, crushing it with a pop between white pearls. Those that remained on his sides and back were crushed as Cthuhlu threw himself into a wall. Their coat came way darker than before, smeared with green and blue entrails. Pixies that had remained on the ground were trampled mercilessly beneath their hooves until finally, the colony of pests retreated, their numbers suffering. What carnage, if one could even call it that, remained was minute. If an onlooker or traveler came across this poor patch in the dungeon and found the upturned mushroom garden, they were likely to find death as well.