The hired muscle isn't entertaining him, which is pissing Luca off. Nevermind the humidity, nevermind the incessant dripping, he'd nearly had one of them ready to take him under their wing and humor him, when a thunderous crash had made them all jump, shaking wet gravel down from the ceiling and all but cracking the tiles. The musclehead in charge had barked them all back to 'point!' which meant jostling Luca into the middle of the sweaty pack, and he hadn't minded that exactly, but the manhandling he could do without.

It's all silence, now. Hooves clacking against stone, occasionally fading out to a slightly squishier shuffle through dense moss, or splashing through water flowing from one side of the tunnel into a crack in the other. Luca couldn't wander off if he tried, but eventually he gets sick of it— Pretends to spot something and points to a sticky dank corner. "Over there!" And then they finally part letting him trot over.

He's right, shockingly— There are mushrooms over here. Interspersed with little glowing lights, some of them seeming to glow themselves from within. But while he's ripping them out, soggy clump after soggy clump, something stings his hock, and he yelps; "Yeowch!" Followed by an exceedingly cranky, mimimimi!

A trio of tiny fairies greets him when he looks down, one holding a minuscule glittering knife, presumably with which it had stabbed him a second ago. He kicks at them. "Piss off." The fairies continue shrilling, and he grabs a few more bundles of fungus, before another jab pricks his ankle. "Yow! Alright, man, come on..."

Beating a hasty retreat, Luca rejoins the muscle squad, scowling. He could have sworn one of them was grinning, but when he shoots a glare that direction, they're looking innocently at a moss-covered flagstone underhoof.