A Tickle of Trouble

Lily, her bright eyes scanning the hushed glade, felt a familiar tickle in her tummy. It was the urge to giggle, a sensation she usually indulged with abandon. But here, in the Whispering Woods, giggles were as rare as sunshine on a Tuesday. She’d already met Barnaby the badger, whose frown could curdle milk, and the Glimmer Sprites, who flitted about like pale moths, their delicate wings shimmering with a sadness that made Lily’s own heart ache.

“It’s just… so quiet,” she whispered to the sprites, who huddled together, their tiny hands clasped. “Don’t you ever… you know… do this?” Lily wiggled her fingers in the air, attempting a playful shimmy. The sprites blinked at her, their large, dewy eyes wide with a mixture of confusion and alarm. One of them, a sprite named Flicker with a particularly faint shimmer, nudged another.

“What is… ‘this’?” Flicker whispered, their voice like the rustle of dry leaves.