Awaiting The Fair Folk

Her feet made fine imprints in the soft clay. And with every step she took her fingers slid over the numerous cattails that lined the slough. They were soft, but resilient things. The pressure her honeyed palms applied did no more than bow their delicate heads to her whim. Then she retracted herself from their presence and peered over the water's edge.

"Do you think we'll see one of the Fair Folk?" Her melodic voice assaulted the air, as refreshing as the brisk morning breeze.

"I quite doubt it. Maybe a nymph in the water, but even that..." He couldn't lie to her, but he hated dashing her hopes.

It was because, whenever he did, she'd peer down on him with a lonely eye and a furrowed brow. Just as she did now. Pulling up her skirts until they were hiked just above her knees the lass hoisted herself up and onto the embankment where he sketched. Pencil in hand, he tried his best not to gaze on her pouting lips or those pools of deep blue that were her eyes.

If he did he'd never get his work done.

And yet as his lady curled up next to his side he could not help, but cast her a piteous glance. His own features sent out a fine, darkened example of melancholy. Something that almost challenged hers. Almost. She flexed her bare feet against the green grass until most of the mud had fallen off.

"I should think that, as we come here so often, the Fair Folk might give us honor of their presence...." She picked at some clay on her big toe.

"I don't think it works like that. They are quite busy after all and why in the world would they spend their time with some ninnies like us?" The realist of the two, as always. The brunette was likely a total opposite of the lady beside him.

"I am not a ninny." She snorted.

"Yes, we both are."

"Well, I'm not. You can be a ninny if you'd like, but I am certainly no such thing."

"Then tell me, oh wise woman of mine, what are we doing day in and day out next to this old river end?" He challenged, setting down his pad of paper.

"We're waiting for an audience." She promptly replied, setting her hands in her lap.

"An audience?"

"Yes."

"With the Fair Folk?"

"Indeed."

"And you say we are not ninnies..." He dropped onto his back and let the afternoon sun pound against his cheeks. In a single instant there was a force upon his chest and he turned to find her present, gazing sternly upon him.

"That is correct. We are not ninnies. And we will see the Fair Folk." She knocked on his head twice.

"Hah. And what makes you so sure...?" He mumbled, attempting to catch breath in his pressed lungs.

"I just..." She paused, sitting up off of him and turning to the water below. "I just am."