Once upon a moonlit night…

There was a little faerie dancing in the woods. Glittering in a pink and yellow silk frock, her diamond dust wings zipped frantically – spinning her around in the rhythm of the breeze as it fluctuated indecisively in the peppered moonlight. Through fluffy wisps of Spanish moss hanging under large oak trees, she bobbled about while singing her favourite tune in that ever so soft voice (which from a distance is easily mistaken for a rambling flower bug in search of pollen or some other sweet-smelling odour like food or pearls of sweat behind a child’s ears…).

The Evening Star, the lover’s star,

The beautiful star comes hither!

As she emerged from the cover of the oak woods, her song was distracted by a thick field of daisies across the open grassland that was staring up at the heavens like a large white blanket covered with yellow polka dots. So mesmerising was the moon tonight that every daisy was transfixed in awe, hypnotised – at least for the next few hours until dawn’s approach.

For our little faerie however, the lunar lure came further down the pecking order when compared to her intense addiction for bellis perennis pollen.

Briefly glancing to acknowledge the mighty white disc in the sky (as one might do when setting out on a moonlit night (“Hmm what’s the weather like tonight?”), she promptly ignored the risks of open-air revelry (as advocated by the 4th Unseelie Court Code for Bad Faeries: Passion before duty) and unabashedly made a bee line for the beady little yellow orbs, which by now looked to her as if they were glowing and pulsating gently in an enchanting manner (if that were possible, because it was probably just her pineal gland leaking melatonin at the thought of impending ecstasy).

All of a sudden, the light of the moon disappeared in a bat of an eye – the sky went dark.

Readjusting her focus, she noticed that the target of her opiate-driven trajectory was still seemingly quite resplendent in the night air and in fact was just as bright as before. So where was this darkness coming from? Sensing the need to divert her attentions from her goal to look elsewhere, the edges of a large cavernous orifice began to appear out of the corners of her blind spot. Immediately, the warm night air turned cold and damp as large stalagmite-like outcrops also began to appear. She thought to herself, “Hello? Where zis cave coming from?” (Our faerie was of Slavic origin). “Hey, diz long protruzion have really sharp tips and shiny too. Hmm, zey look like teeth. Erm…”


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