Otter Creek And the book you write's magnificent

How, indeed? Despite the dishevelement of herself  (rather shabby, when presented in front of this elegant-shouldered vagrant, as it were)  the fée donned a simper that would perhaps seemed mischief-making to many ... although that regard was not entirely untrue. And yet, for this day, her hushed merriment was only found in the wonderment of such a phrase:  "It is a well-wishing, I was told, for ze winds to guide all who walk amongst it. That one will, perhaps, be lead to where-ever it is they mean to be taken,"  again, perhaps not knowing he might have already presumed as much,  "but if it has a lengthier verse, I fear I cannot say further. Only a few words, as much of a riddle as any."  So far, none had taken them to be ill-sworn ...

Then— "O!—"  (feathers, everywhere!)  "Forgive me; I am not so frequently ... ah ..."  Dressed did not seem to be the proper word, for her current state of appearance; and when she could not reach the exact one she wished, the silver's simper turned a smidgen abashed, and she simply surrendered:  "Is it a way through ze mountains that you seek, if I may ask?"