The next step you take feels a bit squishy and is immediately followed by a high-pitched ruckus at hoof level. *MIMIMIMI.* You have stepped on a mushroom, and a family of pixies is swearing at you for crushing their beautiful gazebo. Oops!

Guin froze mid-trot. Her last step gave a repulsive squelch under her hoof, and she feared what sight awaited her. Dung? A squashed grub? Just the thought made the Heraldic panic and her skin crawl. Avoiding eye contact with the horrid mush on her hoof, she moved to scrape the whatever it was against a rock. She knew it would not make her hoof clean, but it would make it cleaner.

It was only when her cloven hoof reached stone that the shrill chorus of angry pixies grew loud enough to reach her ears. Reluctantly, her gaze dropped to the ground and she saw the remnants of a mushed mushroom and a gaggle of tiny winged humanoids. Their skin was dazzling and opalescent, like the iridescent chitin of dragonflies.

“Oh!” She gasped in wonder, failing to note their obvious anger. “Pretty pixies! Maybe you can help me?”

The pixies were not keen to help, but she had no knowledge of pixies and could not tell, even as they buzzed angrily about her hooves.

“I'm looking for my husband,” she explained. “He's a dashing adventurer with a beautiful weld coat and the most handsomest golden eyes.” She sighed and pawed the ground bashfully, causing further damage to what was once the pixies' lawn.

The shouting and gesturing of the pixies intensified; she chose to interpret this as them giving her directions.