Bramblepoint dry eyes, it's no surprise

She was enthused, surprised. He knows the swiftness of her movements indicate an intense interest that he was keen to share. A light pang of grief managed to worm its way into his heart. If only Wraen were here. Her stories were the best, and he felt saddled uncomfortably with the responsibility of passing them on, though he knew his retelling of legends, fairytales and myths would pale in complexion next to hers. Those stories, told by the legend herself, would be his to remember, a treasure he could never truly share with anyone else. He could only offer them a glimpse. 

-Well, They're small things, and often you don't see them, just the things that they do.- He expained. -They live in forests, they love big, old, mossy trees...They like to play tricks, and they love to trade and make deals, but you always have to be careful- they are very proud, and very easy to offend,- He warned. He smiled, eyes twinkling. -I knew someone once...And she learned the hard way that one should never insult a faerie...- He said.