A gentle waking was rare in the dungeons. Renault knew this well and flared his nostrils, relishing the scent of damp moss and cold stone for a moment longer before he opened his eyes. 

As he blinked open his eyes in what should’ve been a rather dark and quiet chamber, an unexpectedly bright, close light greeted him. He squinted and snorted in reflex, and the light jumped off the edge of his nose, hovering just above his snout and chiding him in a voice like bells, indecipherable into any language. 

Pixies.

Renault closed his eyes for just a moment longer, before sighing and drawing his head in, rolling up onto his belly. Pixies didn’t always mean safety in the dungeons, but they themselves were rather benign. He snorted a half-hearted apology to the pixie he had dislodged from his nose, and pushed himself to his hooves, grunting at the effort. The dungeon must have let him get a good few hours of sleep in the cold and damp, for his joints to be so stiff. 

It was when he turned to gather his things that he realized the pixies had done more than use him as a soft bench. He blinked, and had to furrow his brow to focus on what he was seeing. His bag and sword lay where he’d left them, but not…as he’d left them. The brown leather of his bag was invisible, doused in glitter and flower petals and shiny stones, transforming it from something for a dungeon crawler to something a noble mare with rather poor taste might wear. His sword fared little better, the steel edge bedazzled with the type of sparkle one can only find in pixie dust. 

A soft chorus of bell-chiming giggles came from somewhere over his shoulder as he inspected his gear, and Renault just sighed. He reached down, gingerly taking the strap of his bag in his teeth, and tossed it over his withers before gathering his sword, much to the delight of the pixies. He’d have to clean it off at some point, but a glittery sword could still pierce. It was better to be entertaining to the pixies, than to offend them by shaking off their…interesting decorations. If pixies liked you, they might just warn you of upcoming danger, if only to amuse themselves with your response. If you offend them badly enough, they could just lead the monsters of the dungeons right to you. 

Renault nosed under the flap of his bag and dug out a single shiny, golden coin in his teeth. He flicked his head, tossing the piece toward the congregation of shimmering pixies, making them scatter and regroup just as quickly, like crows to a carcass. Their chiming voices picked up in delight, and they hefted the coin over their little heads in a joyful dance as Renault left them to it, plodding off down the corridor to continue his dive.