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.
When Farmer Tye saw the dragon guarding a little brambly nest tucked under a bush, he knew what it meant. Baby dragons.
“You leave that nest alone, Farmer Tye,” said his neighbor and friend Jimmy Quinn. Jimmy was a carpenter and very conscious of his crucial role in the village’s upkeep, just as he was very conscious of Tye’s practical usefulness as well. To him, the stonemason was “Stonemason Tim,” the weaver was “Weaver Molly,” and the farmer was “Farmer Tye.”