Evening Settled Over the pine woods with the pixies asleep in their chrysalises. The hummingbird waited by the hidden nursey for the inevitable fire to flare up nearby on a bare, rocky knob of the hill. Unpleasant neighbors would be arriving soon. Trolls were known primarily for three things, she reminded herself: Felonies, misdemeanors, and bonfires--in no particular order. Tonight they would roast some large critter on the spit and break out a huge tub of fresh home brew. The only thing missing might be a sweet pixie dessert to top it off, but the idea would occur to them. It would be her job to keep that recipe unfilled.
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