who fell in a river one evening...

The man ran toward the river, speeding up as he saw the walking staff with its top still glowing lying on the ground next to the hole in the thin ice that covered the dark river. He immediately thrust his arms into the water, ignoring the icy chill as he swept them back and forth. One of his hands caught on a wad of fabric and he reached farther until he felt solid flesh, then grabbed on and pulled with all his strength. It was a fairy. She was still wearing a red shawl, now sodden and dark. He couldn't remember which colors meant what, but he knew that her blue lips were not a good sign. The man laid her on the ground on her side and pushed on her until river water came spewing out of her mouth. She still wasn't breathing, so he threw her over his shoulder and took off toward his cabin. He momentarily regretted the loss of his kill, but knew that the forest would absorb it and use it to nourish its own. It was more important to save this life than to add venison stew to the week's meals.
The man crashed through the woods until he reached his roomy home in a small clearing. He was panting as he pushed open the solid oak door and a bundle of dried herbs and bells hanging from the door frame jingled as his head brushed past it. The fire in the fireplace was dying down, so he threw logs on until it built up, then got to the business of getting the fairy out of her wet clothes. He respectfully tried to avert his eyes as the layers came off, but he couldn't help noticing that she was pleasantly rounded in all the right places. Her abundant mass of dark hair would surely be beautiful when it dried.
The man covered her nakedness with a bearskin and then hurried to his cupboard of healing herbs. He pulled out a small jar of breathewort dust and shook some on her face as he returned to kneel beside her. There was nothing to do now but hope and pray the dust would work and that he had warmed her up in time. He gazed at her pale face. Suddenly, she gasped and opened her eyes and he found himself staring into the depths of emerald green pools.
The man found himself having trouble breathing and considered reaching for the breathewort. The blood rushing to warm her showcased a truly beautiful face that the cold river had tried to steal for itself. The fairy gasped and coughed and trembled, struggling to sit up. He helped her sit up, his hand electrified by the feel of her bare back. He quickly drew it back when she had her balance.
***
Jena stared wildly at the giant man in front of her. Where was she? Who was this man who smelled of cedar and pine and earth? WHY WAS SHE NAKED???


to be continued...