A dark forest with an offensive aura surrounds a small white cottage. The forest is cold and the whispers of the wind sound like threats, offensive to the ears and enough to send chills down the spine of even the strongest warrior. The traveler brushes back his blonde hair out of his eyes to get a better look at the withered forest around him. The gray trees represent the petrified forest, however these trees seem to have been frightened to death, judging by the eerie faces of horror on each tree. The twisted faces on each tree have subtle differences to each of them and on the back of the trunk there is a date, going as far back as August 18th, 2005. The only thing more offensive than the vibe of the area is the smell of death and decay, however the traveler notices as they approach closer that there is a fine circle with the most beautiful emerald shade of grass that has ever lived. The traveler steps forward across the line separating the beauty of nature from the reeking stench of death. A white dove flies past the traveler’s head singing the sweetest melody, even in this portion the sky is a crystalline blue, a perfect contrast to the eternal midnight the forest was plunged under. A smell of honey and freshly baked bread fills the traveler’s nose, calling him inside the cottage. As he steps closer to the white cottage, he notices the structure of it. The cottage is seemingly built by one's own hands and the handwritten wooden sign above the door reads, “Cori’s Inn”. The traveler, tired from his travels, decides to walk into the cottage. 

The traveler pokes his head in and lets his tired eyes scan the cottage, “Hello?” His hoarse voice calls out. When there is no response, he furthers his journey into the cottage. The wooden walls have a yellowish tint to them from age that gives the cottage a homely and charming feel. Each wall is filled with hand carved oak shelves, each filled with either a small stuffed animal with a sweet smile, or jars of herbs that resemble lavender. Plants and flowers fill the area of the tiny shop portion, vines hang from the ceiling adorned with sweet smelling daisies. This sweet cottage is out of touch with the modern advances of technology, relying on only oil lamps and a charming fireplace surrounded by two regal looking white chairs. The traveler approaches the counter and sees a bell that says, “Ring for Service” in the same handwriting that the sign is painted in. He rings the bell and hears a clatter from the next room over. What emerges is an enchanting sight. A black haired woman, just barely younger than the traveler, wearing a flowing long sleeve white dress that touches the floor. The neck of the dress reaches a point in her mid chest, allowing the multitude of necklaces that she’s wearing to hang without obstruction. Her wavy black hair is covered in frizz and loose strands and the ends barely brush her shoulders. Her soft green eyes with flecks of gold offer a comforting gaze, similar to a mother. Her freckles dust her pale skin and her rosy cheeks. When she smiles, it noticeably lights up the room.

“Hello traveler!” The sweet voice of the woman emerges from her beautiful throat. “Would you care for a fresh cinnamon roll? I just baked them, no charge.” The traveler nods and takes one gingerly from the tray she is holding with chunky green oven mitts. She turns around to place the tray behind her on the counter, this gives the traveler the opportunity to see the delicate fairy wings that were hiding behind her. “I normally don’t get visitors here, are you here to rest before continuing on your travels?”

The traveler watches her work on setting things up behind the counter in shock. “I didn’t plan on it.” The traveler replies. The perkiness of the fae’s wings seem to drop in despair upon hearing about her potential friend’s departure. In an attempt to save himself, the traveler speaks up. “My name is Alexander!” The panicked traveler accidentally yelled this statement at the fae, causing an eruption of laughter from her pink lips. A scarlet mask of embarrassment covers the face of the traveler as the fae sets her guest log in front of the traveler. The book is covered in leather and hand painted floral designs on the cover, different names are written in the book, all in the same handwriting as all of the signage around the cottage. It’s now apparent to the traveler that the woman had not seen another person in an exceedingly long time. He writes down his name and what he hopes to be the date in the check-in box and slides the book back across the counter with a pleasing sound. 

The fae’s face lights up and she smiles brightly at the young man who has come into her cottage. She snaps the book shut in a cloud of dust that throws the traveler into a coughing fit. “It’s so nice to meet you, Alexander. I’m Cori and THIS is my shop!” She makes an absurdly grand gesture to the cozy cottage and shop full of homemade goods. “How about you go put your feet up and lay by the fire. I’ll be over soon with some tea.” She skips into the kitchen portion of her cottage behind a swinging saloon door, on her way her wings flutter and carry her just a few feet in between skips. 

The weary young traveler takes off his muddy boots and places them near the door of the cottage. He trudges over to the elegant velvet chairs with the white trim he had stumbled upon earlier during his survey of the enchanting little cottage. He places his tired rear into the chair and starts to reflect on his travels from the endless time he has been on his journey. As he waits for his new found companion, exhaustion begins to take over his hazel eyes. He no longer has the energy to keep them open, or brush his shaggy blonde hair out of his face. All that’s left to do is let sleep take over. 

The fae returns from the kitchen excited and bubbly. She’s eternally grateful to have someone to talk to and share her baking with after being alone for so long. Upon reaching the charming little hearth, she sees Alexander lying in the chair fast asleep, already snoring softly in harmony with the crackling wood in the fireplace. Instead of feeling sad, she takes a deep breath and trots over to a shelf full of homemade crochet blankets. She picks out a large blue toned blanket, deep blue and dusty blue stripes with a gorgeous frosty blue garnishing the edges. Cori carefully unfolds the blanket and places it around the weary traveler, who seems to smile in his sleep. She turns out the oil lamps around the cottage and sits in the chair across the way to watch over her brand new friend.