Prilla’s response, Vidia set off at a quick pace.
Prilla stared at Vidia’s retreating back in confusion. As the fastest of the fast-flying-talent fairies, Vidia never walked when she could fly. It went against her nature.
What is going on? Prilla wondered. She followed Vidia to find out, racing to catch up. Even on land, Vidia was fast.
Finally, Vidia came to a stop at the edge of a minnow pond. It was nearly sunset, and the sky was a soft shade of pinkish purple. There was a pleasant chorus of chirping crickets and peeping frogs. Fireflies had begun lighting up the dusky air around them.
Vidia turned to face Prilla. “So what have you been up to lately, dearest?” she asked.
“Oh, a little of this, a little of that,” Prilla answered.
“Mmm-hmm,” replied Vidia. She had a funny look on her face, as if she was trying not to smirk. “A little tree-bark grading?” Vidia asked sweetly.
Prilla nodded. She remembered the splinters she had gotten that day.
“Maybe some floor polishing?” Vidia went on.
Prilla winced. She had spent an entire afternoon on her hands and knees, helping polish the mica entryway in the Home Tree.
“And some dandelion-fluff sorting?”
“That made me sneeze,” Prilla recalled. She was beginning to feel self-conscious. Had she really been spending that much time helping out other talents?
“Not to mention the time you helped the ink-making-talent fairies.”
Prilla glanced down at her hands. If she looked closely, she could still see some of the purple ink under her fingernails and in the wrinkly skin around her knuckles.
She cleared her throat to speak. But Vidia wasn’t through.
“And then a little caterpillar shearing today…Look, Prilla,” Vidia said. She put her hands on her hips. “I’ve been trying to ignore it, but your nicey-nice behavior is getting on my last nerve. I’ve got a new talent for you, sweetness—doormat talent. You let everyone walk all over you.”
Prilla cringed. Was she really that bad?
“Don’t look at me as if I’ve been pulling the wings off dragonflies. I know everyone around here thinks I’m horrible, but I do try to help out a fellow fairy now and then. So I’m helping you now. I don’t want to see you hurt.”
Vidia scowled fiercely. Prilla had the feeling Vidia hadn’t meant to say that last part.
Raising her chin, Vidia flipped her hair back and said, “Face it, Prilla, you’ve got a problem.”
“A problem? What do you mean, Vidia?” asked Prilla.
“You are the fairy who just can’t say no.”
Prilla stared at her shoes. “Well, what’s wrong with being helpful?” she asked, a little defensively.
She didn’t want to say it out loud to Vidia, but she liked it when other fairies asked her for help. In Pixie Hollow, talent groups did everything together. They worked together, played together, ate their meals together. When Prilla had first arrived, she hadn’t known what her talent was. She had felt very alone.
Prilla had desperately wanted to fit in back then. In the end, she’d found her talent and her place among the fairies. But even now, every time someone asked for her help, she felt glad.
She knew that Vidia would never understand. Vidia was a loner. She preferred her own company to that of anyone else. Why, she even lived alone in a sour-plum tree, apart from the rest of the fairies.
Vidia gave Prilla an exasperated look. “Sweetness, what is the only thing that’s important to me?” she asked.
That wasn’t hard to answer. “Flying fast, of course,” Prilla replied.
“And why is that?” Vidia asked.
Prilla was puzzled. “Because you like to…fly quickly?”
Vidia rolled her eyes. “Because it’s my talent, pumpkin. The most important thing to any fairy is her talent.” She crossed her arms and smirked at Prilla. “But the most important thing to you, apparently, is being helpful!” Vidia made a disgusted face as she said the word “helpful.”
With a sinking heart, Prilla
Prilla stared at Vidia’s retreating back in confusion. As the fastest of the fast-flying-talent fairies, Vidia never walked when she could fly. It went against her nature.
What is going on? Prilla wondered. She followed Vidia to find out, racing to catch up. Even on land, Vidia was fast.
Finally, Vidia came to a stop at the edge of a minnow pond. It was nearly sunset, and the sky was a soft shade of pinkish purple. There was a pleasant chorus of chirping crickets and peeping frogs. Fireflies had begun lighting up the dusky air around them.
Vidia turned to face Prilla. “So what have you been up to lately, dearest?” she asked.
“Oh, a little of this, a little of that,” Prilla answered.
“Mmm-hmm,” replied Vidia. She had a funny look on her face, as if she was trying not to smirk. “A little tree-bark grading?” Vidia asked sweetly.
Prilla nodded. She remembered the splinters she had gotten that day.
“Maybe some floor polishing?” Vidia went on.
Prilla winced. She had spent an entire afternoon on her hands and knees, helping polish the mica entryway in the Home Tree.
“And some dandelion-fluff sorting?”
“That made me sneeze,” Prilla recalled. She was beginning to feel self-conscious. Had she really been spending that much time helping out other talents?
“Not to mention the time you helped the ink-making-talent fairies.”
Prilla glanced down at her hands. If she looked closely, she could still see some of the purple ink under her fingernails and in the wrinkly skin around her knuckles.
She cleared her throat to speak. But Vidia wasn’t through.
“And then a little caterpillar shearing today…Look, Prilla,” Vidia said. She put her hands on her hips. “I’ve been trying to ignore it, but your nicey-nice behavior is getting on my last nerve. I’ve got a new talent for you, sweetness—doormat talent. You let everyone walk all over you.”
Prilla cringed. Was she really that bad?
“Don’t look at me as if I’ve been pulling the wings off dragonflies. I know everyone around here thinks I’m horrible, but I do try to help out a fellow fairy now and then. So I’m helping you now. I don’t want to see you hurt.”
Vidia scowled fiercely. Prilla had the feeling Vidia hadn’t meant to say that last part.
Raising her chin, Vidia flipped her hair back and said, “Face it, Prilla, you’ve got a problem.”
“A problem? What do you mean, Vidia?” asked Prilla.
“You are the fairy who just can’t say no.”
Prilla stared at her shoes. “Well, what’s wrong with being helpful?” she asked, a little defensively.
She didn’t want to say it out loud to Vidia, but she liked it when other fairies asked her for help. In Pixie Hollow, talent groups did everything together. They worked together, played together, ate their meals together. When Prilla had first arrived, she hadn’t known what her talent was. She had felt very alone.
Prilla had desperately wanted to fit in back then. In the end, she’d found her talent and her place among the fairies. But even now, every time someone asked for her help, she felt glad.
She knew that Vidia would never understand. Vidia was a loner. She preferred her own company to that of anyone else. Why, she even lived alone in a sour-plum tree, apart from the rest of the fairies.
Vidia gave Prilla an exasperated look. “Sweetness, what is the only thing that’s important to me?” she asked.
That wasn’t hard to answer. “Flying fast, of course,” Prilla replied.
“And why is that?” Vidia asked.
Prilla was puzzled. “Because you like to…fly quickly?”
Vidia rolled her eyes. “Because it’s my talent, pumpkin. The most important thing to any fairy is her talent.” She crossed her arms and smirked at Prilla. “But the most important thing to you, apparently, is being helpful!” Vidia made a disgusted face as she said the word “helpful.”
With a sinking heart, Prilla
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