It was traditional, not to say required, to be married before the stones. The people of the fields and drops of Little Boulding had kept to this tradition, not at all a requirement, since before anyone could remember. So of course it was expected that if they were to be married, even a goblin and a man ought to be married before the stones.
On this day, the happiest day, Gnarlas was trying to decide why the man wanted to marry her at all.
They say that elephants have a long memory. Daffy had the shortest memory I’ve ever seen.
When we found her as a baby, premature and weak, Ehan dedicated himself to that baby elephant’s care like no fairy I know. The hours he spent mixing gallons of nourishing drink from our secret ingredients, patting her with mud to make sure the flies didn’t bother her.
She didn’t live in town. The island population, a little under five hundred residents, was limited mostly to farmers and fishers. The moment Davie saw her sitting on the sand, looking out to sea with her knees pulled under her chin, he knew she didn’t belong.
There was something unusual in her quietness and poise. Something in her eyes was strange and deep, wild and unafraid like the sea itself. Davie was a little afraid of her. But even though he was afraid, it comforted him somehow to see her every morning. People gossiped about her but he never listened to what they said. There was a mystery about that young woman he was satisfied to solve himself.