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Arion was a particularly handsome fairy with long golden hair, huge silver eyes, and skin with a definite pinkish hue to it. He wore a leaf tunic and had wisps of grass braided into his hair. Some dying part of Frita was horrified by how much she enjoyed dancing with him. But she did, she enjoyed it so very much, and they spent a good many hours just staring into each other's eyes as they swayed to the music. The festival was wrapping up, and dawn was beginning to paint the sky, but a few dedicated musicians were still playing slow songs, and Frita and Arion were among the few couples who continued to dance. Few words had passed between them. But Frita couldn't recall ever feeling closer to anyone. She was dimly aware that a combination of factors were impacting the quality of her memory--her dulled fairy mind and her complete exhaustion, for example. Some distant part of her, the human part, told her it was probably time to sleep. "I'm so tired," she murmured into Arion's chest (he was far taller than she, a good six inches as opposed to Frita's four and a half). "Then I shall carry you until the sun comes up and the festival is truly over," said Arion softly. "We shall not let such a silly thing as tiredness beat us." Strangely enough, Frita really liked the sound of that, and in fact let herself drift off even as they danced. She woke up well into the afternoon. The entire tree was very quiet, as most fairies were in the same boat. She looked around, and saw Arion stretched out on the branch next to her. She had had such a wonderful night. A perfect night, in fact. She went to fetch some food for herself and for Arion, when he woke up.
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8/31/2018 7:46:24 AM
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