Oh Blue and Red
Once up on a time, there was a fairy. A beautiful Blue, with silvery scars and she was ever airy. She laid herself in to a tree, of oaken strong. There she remained, asleep from teeth forever long. She slept and slept and months became years. So she could easily avoid the outside worlds fears.
Oh how Blue dreamed of a world without scars. But yet, dreamed as such and lived in a world with bars. She slumbered and wondered when she would wake. Time was the price, the toll that it will take.
Then one night when the moon was full, a wolf laid rest at the oak for his sake. One red ichor eye, and such was his war torn scared face. Oh my, in the land fairies did this wolf seem so out of place. In times when wolves huffed and puffed down houses. This wolf didn't even want to hurt the mouses. He was known far and wind, a friend to the fairy to all in mind. Blue awoke to his sneezing face, because fairy dust sneezes was what Red would find. She looked down as once did Rapunzel, and said.
“Oh my, Mr. Wolf, I apologize so much in advance, your sneezing has risen me from bed” With a voice that would disarm the most armed of men, she who spoke would take knees and bend.
The wolf Red, looked up at her face, and with his well trained eye saw every scar in its place. Laid on fair skin, on a fairy as her, he asked very plainly as not her to spur. In deep, so olden, a wolven side, a voice of trailing, growling kind.
“Madam fairy, who is fair and kind, tell me young one, who did these to you and left it consigned.”
With a his face now lifted, staring at Mrs. Blue, eyeing her scars of silvery hue. A black wolf out of place in the realm of Fae, but with their magic begged him to stay. You see, Mr. Blue was old and true. A friend to the fairies, Reds, Greys, caps, and even the blues.
With a calm that sinks inside of skin, his voice's spell started to begin.
“Come down from the oak, and play like rest, I will protect you to this I will attest”
With dainty voice, that trilled like song, a shiver ran through Blue that felt wrong.
“No no Mr. Wolf, I can not come along, and play with the other fae's song. The day may be as such, but it feels wrong.”
The shaking of Blue, lead to dust come falling down, on snoots, roots, and leaves around. Sneezing began for Mr. Red, where Red laughter is all that was found. If you think a fairy talking was enough to rile, you should see when one gives you a smile. It is a sunshine in dark, or holy angels ark. It will bend the will of most things, and joy it always brings. It caused as such for Mr. Red, where canine teeth was were it led. Blue began to shake in fright, at the teethes scary sight. She rebound back in to the oak, away again from her family and folk.
Realizing patience is what was needed, the wolf began to take word and heeded. He sat at the tree for days on end, for his will to protect this fairy would never bend. He sat and sat from sun to moon, awaiting this fairy to finally give boon. She looked out the oak so high, and let out a beautiful sigh.
“Mr. Wolf why have you waited? Has your boredom not been abated?”
She said with shining eyes, and dust floating as does fireflies.
“Mr. Fairy, who is beautiful and arey, I will not let hair be harmed on your head, this is what I've said, I know one who has come before, I have learned from folks about its lore. You may play unafraid, go now play in the glade”
Mrs. Blue seemed almost teary, ever so weary. She climbed down the tree a little at a time, every step like a little chime. She landed next to the wolf with grace and easy, and the wolves ears lifted pleased. The eye followed with great responsibility, bowing slight with the most civility.
Looking around Mrs. Blue began to glow again with brilliant light, all the fay watched what a sight. Blue had not singed, nor danced in quite awhile, nor had she graced any with smile. She played, and danced with the wind, and the rain. The wilds bent to her that much was plain. For Blue faeries are the most revered, unknown to most that much is clear. For in this instance, they all came together, Red tops, and Old Greys, Green Blops, and the Whispered Ways. They played and played.
All along the wolf sat in reverence and awe, watching run off, as he laid his head on one of his paws. He rested finally knowing they would be unharmed, he had no reason to be alarmed.
But as things go and they often do, misfortune found Mr. Wolf, and not Mrs. Blue. You see sometimes these havens fall to unclean hands, who somehow stumble on to fairy lands. On this day of play and merry, Sons of the land came to tarry. They found the wolf asleep under an oak, and misunderstood so much, and left him with a bang and smoke. You see wolves are not looked at very favorably, humans look at them so unsavory.
Blue found him in a pile cold and alone, unmoving a pillar of stone. She looked around in anger and fright. She looked for the ones she wished to fight. She screamed and yelled, like the ringing of a great bell. These humans did not realize who they had wronged. They should have listened to their ancestors songs.They messed with gods of old, and they will come asunder, they will sit in awe and wonder. For Blue the Fairy stood high again, she called the fairies she called the rain. A loud crack like thunder and they all stood and wondered. The Reds, The Whites, The Frights, The Greys, Even angry were the whispering ways. For Wolf was a friend to all, to all the faey.
They came running through the forest not gentle as a breeze, but tornado, and hurricane as to freeze. Rain fell, and moved the Tree's, the humans ran, they screamed, they began to flee. Panic set, as each one fell, under the fays indomitable spells. For years hence after this moment, for years and years the humans gave bestowment.
After this happened, the fairies all gathered. Because Mr. Wolf to them always mattered. Oh how they begged for him to come back, for now their protector they lacked.
It must have been on the wind, the scent spinned. The wildest mother came to see such tragedy and sin.
Blue begged her in upmost earnest.
“Please wild mother, do something!” Only receiving a look sternest.
In the most motherly tone that one can muster, aiming to unfluster.
“Beautiful child, free and awake, In my power he shall wake.” She pulled a feather from a crown of feathers and horn, in an instant of green something was born.
Mr. Wolf awoke red and aery. Petite little Red Fairy. Oh the song, and the dance that ensued, for a love created for Mr. Red, and Mrs. Blue. But take not my word for it, go out in to the world and sit. Listen for the song at night of Red, and Blue sometimes on a full moon. You can hear them dancing among the trees, you can see them riding the bee's. In the summer, or even winter times, always together, always aligned.
