• Pale light filters through the cabins as they regular workers rise and the babies start crying and the village started rising in it's own personal song of laughs and voices and carpenters and harvesters with farmers.The children flew through the hollow stump and throw back and forth until the harvesters jokingly scold them about taking fruit. The women of the nursery nurse their small fairy babies, smashing fruits in their acorn bowls and pouring the nectar like liquid in to tiny bottles to feed to the children and silence their heart wrenching wails of hunger. The regular citizens wander the streets stopping to the many street stands that smelt of fresh berries and squirrel meat. The hunters rode in on sleek barn mice, replacing the arrows in the tier quivers. They laid down the large squirrel they had caught and butchered, and proceeded to help the carpenters create the week's highlight:a bonfire.The flames lap at the sky with a playful banter that could only the seen by the playful eyes of the fairies as they danced and ate their squirrel and berries and laughed and joked around their perfect world of magic and fun. Because where humans see a disgusting, decayed trunk filled with fireflies, fairies see the most perfect life that is livable.