Post by Jack Frost on Feb 28, 2015 20:42:25 GMT -5
ALL THE WORLD IS MADE OF FAITH
TRUST & PIXIE DUST ----------------
Tinker Bell had a fondness for little doll houses, therefore whenever one presented itself she would explore the quality of such craftsmanship. Humans, especially when they reached adulthood, ended up pirates. Still, many of them had talent and imagination, which was proof enough for the fairy that not all of them aged mentally. Adults were simply children stuck in an older body; at least, a good few of them. “This almost reminds me of ‘mother’.” She said, referring to someone who once loved her a very long time ago. “But then she decided to grow up. She would have loved this house!” She didn’t quite refer to Wendy when she said this. No, she was no longer bitter over the beautiful youth Peter had met so long ago. In fact, she missed her from time to time. But her comments were about another entirely.
The reminiscing creature crossed her arms, smile broadening with the admiration she felt. Too drawn to the decor she didn’t take the moment to dim her lighting, instantaneously illuminating the space like a vibrant Christmas light. “I guess that’s one of the benefits of being small,” she continued. “I can practically live here! But Neverland’s better, of course. You don’t need to borrow food there; you can just dream it up!” Thinking she was alone, she bit into a grape she found on the desk in the room.
Unfortunately, her timing was particularly bad as a paper roll of some sort smacked the floor beside her, causing the house to tumble over from the violent impact. The fairy managed to spring out of the tinier room just in time and escape through the giant window that led her in in the first place. Tired and out of breath from flying so far and so wide that she found a corner somewhere and fell asleep for hours upon hours to regain her strength. The slightest movement of her leg caused a sound unlike any other, a tune that suited her name. The chime of a bell would disturb the person lurking or, perhaps, sleeping nearby. Peacefully unaware of the circumstances, she continued to dream a little dream about the land she hailed from.