We were always warned about humans. They were like curious babes. They were relentless in their searching, too, once they thought they were onto a trail, like bloodhounds. Babes and bloodhounds.
Though babes and bloodhounds are innocent creatures. They can't cognitively process the thoughts an adult human can. That's why humans are dangerous.
Even children are dangerous, but they are easier to charm. They are easier to distract and throw off the trail as well, and their attention spans are brief. If one does manage to find an unlucky faerie, they are charmed and drawn into the lair, then disposed of in their sleep. But adults are not so easily charmed, nor disposed of.
Faeries are taught from birth to fear and keep away from humans.
But I was not a "normal" faerie. My parents admonished me for my bravery. I was supposed to cower and hide. I was supposed to turn off my inner light and Dim myself into invisibility. I could do these things, sure, but I chose not to.
There was something fascinating about Humans. They were so destructive of our forests, and pollutant to our waters and air. But they also could be kind and respectful.
I knew this firsthand. I never told anyone about my encounter with humans. I would have been shunned or treated for psychological problems. I hid it deep inside me, but it excited me. And in still moments, it called to me, drove me out in the open, as close to the edge of our faerie boundaries as possible.
I was young, only a few summers old. I had wandered farther than I ever had before to test my new wings. I climbed up and flew for small stretches up to higher branches of a tall tree. Each flight up took more of my energy. I was exhilerated to be flying, so I didn't notice at first how tired I was becoming.
I landed and sat on a branch near the top of the tree. I could see for miles. Rolling hills, other forests, other lakes. A world opened up to me that day. I saw and understood the vastness of the place we called home.
But when I went to fly down, my wing muscles cramped. I plummeted toward earth. I crashed through leaves and twigs, letting out a tiny faerie scream. It was the first time I had been truly afraid.
But something caught me. It was soft and hairy. I learned later it was a dog. Beside the dog walked a very tall (or I thought so) human! I hid in the long hairs as best I could and held on for dear life.
The human spotted me. I had turned off my light as I was supposed to, but was too tired to Dim. The human picked me off the dog's back, looked closely at me, called me a bug, and threw me into a clump of tall grass and flowers.
I rested there, shaken, a wing slightly bent, until I had regained my strength and found my way home. My parents were irate, but glad to have me back, relatively unharmed. I told them about flying too high and falling, for faeries are great lie-dectors, but left out the human part.
Today I sat in the trumpet of a flower, under a large leaf, listening to the stream empty into the lake. My light was on, as I liked the way it lit the inside of the flower, and I was humming to myself.
Suddenly the large leaf was pushed back by an enormous hand and a giant face peered down at me!