"What light through yonder window breaks.... It is the east and Juliet"

"Errr.. Romeo... Since when did Juliet glow like that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Oh shit, that's not Juliet up there. I know she's pretty but she doesn't shine like the sun you idiot! Her house is on fire!"

The serious Pir sat curled up in her hollow, a simple dugout under a willow tree.

She would have slept, but the voices of Oberon and Titinia were too loud to bear.

“We must find Lidia!” her father softly. “We may not walk this path. ’Tis unfair to do such things to a poor soul such as a child. The maginastists will hurt her, and many others! We must call the search off! Lidia Hage shall live.”

The storm outside began to drown out their angry words, and Pir relaxed, assuming that her relatives continued the fight in one of their hollows. She curled up in her leaf mold, and she let her mind wonder away from the fighting of her mother and father. It slipped away from the mysterious eighth blood faeree, and into a simple daydream.

In the dream, a human named Helen was standing on her own. She was weeping, and then another girl confronted her.

“Helen, why must you cry?” Henna asked. “It is such a lovely day, you must join Lysander and I for a picnic…”

“Henna, oh! All is well for you! Demetrian and Lysander are both so smitten with you! You, you lucky girl, oh, Demetrian is to marry you! How I envy you…”

“WHAT?” Henna raged. “I will do nothing of the kind.” Tears begin to well up in her eyes, and Henna speaks again. “I love only Lysander! Why must father force this marriage upon me?”

Henna sneaks into her room and pulls out her phone as she gets home.

She dials a number, and speaks into the phone. “Lysander, pack your clothes if you want to be with me.”

“Henna, I can’t let you go!” Helen wails. “Oh, how Demetrian will scorn upon me for you leaving! It would all be my dangerous ideas, influencing the smart good lady Hemma, and the decent man Lysander!”

“Helen, if we go, you can have Demetrian,” Hemma reminded her friend.

“I love you not, so pursue me not!” Demetrian hollered and Helen.

“Oh, speaking in an olden tone again- how romantic,” Helen sighed. “Though, your words, I dare admit, are not original. Demetrius said them in William Shakespeare’s ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream.’”

Demetrian slowly spins around to face Helen. “My name is Demetrius, Helen!” He exclaims. “And you pesky narrator- how dare you poke fun at me with that foul nickname!”

“Oh, heck, Demetrian!” Helen shouts back. “We’re entertaining Pir right now!”

“I think you mean Puck, and I know he is not watching us right now,” Demetrian explained- or should I say rambled on about a Shakespeare play- now trying to be calm. “OH, I AM NOT CALM NOW, NARRATOR!” Demetrian hollered. “I wasn’t rambling- we ARE performing a play!”

Oh, snap, Demetrian! We are entertaining the readers!

Oh, and now I am breaking the narrator rules talking to you. DANG!

I then pop out of the bushes, and say “Let’s try this again!”

So, the story starts out with Oberin and Titana arguing-

“Pir, wake up!” Puck shouted as he woke his sister. “Dad- I mean Oberon- said we’re going mortal pranking!”

He smiled very hard, and bounded out of the hollow, and into the storm. Pir followed him out, more slowly, sadly pondering her dream.

The End!

Oh, wow, it feels good to be the narrator again! That Pir could not even narrate her daydream right- oh snap, is the story still going?

Click.