A stroll through a magical forest isn't really so fun when there are faeries plucking and grabbing clumps of your hair, elves attempting to set your clothes on fire, and trolls poking your vulnerable skin with their needle-like fingers.
Unfortuna...
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"Ouch!"
Asagai raised both arms over his head and waved them hysterically, desperately trying to shoo away the vicious faeries nibbling and tugging onto his hair.
A fae with a crimson glow attempted to poke his left eyeball with its hand, but the boy swiftly swatted it away with the back of his own. He ducked against a low-lying oak branch, all the while frantically avoiding all the poking and pulling and touching of the annoying little monsters.
The faeries of Vorare, with their bark-like skin and neon, flowing dresses, often took interest in grabbing human hair and using them as building materials for their nests — if they're trying to make any. Asagai cringed just by looking at their blank, beady eyes, which were usually the same colour of their dress's shade.
Asagai took a water weed, light blue flowers containing lots of moisture, which was just as long as the length of his hand to his elbow. Those herbs were quite helpful, and now that the boy thought about it, he recalled the old hag who taught him all about them, her face marred with wrinkles and grime as if she hadn't bathed for ages.
The young thief nearly landed face-first on a muddy puddle after accidentally tripping over a curved root, making him curse and wonder for a brief moment why he himself, a boy of fourteen summers, dared venture into the most treacherous forest in the entirety of Vorare.
An elf, only as tall as the water weeds that grew without discipline on the sides of the trees, carried a small match. Asagai surreptitiously watched it run towards him, its pointed red hat lightly brushing against his knee. The elf carefully stood on its tiptoes, lifting the flaming match until it nearly burned the boy's pants. Evasively, Asagai nudged the flightless critter away, telling it that he saw through its prank.
The sun's harsh rays penetrated his tanned skin, causing it to itch and blot. Even though century-old trees littered the woods and towered over everything else, they weren't enough to keep the heat at bay. Asagai muttered another curse as his foot got stuck in another overgrown root, having grown particularly tired of the repetitive, never-ending scene of trees and roots and elves — not to forget the faeries swarming around his hair like pesky locusts.
The cicadas scattered all over the forest of Woodsworth sang and kept his keen mind alert, but the constant ringing had soon turned out to be quite annoying after listening to it for hours and hours. Asagai's ears hurt as they rang shrilly from the accumulating heat and the lack of water.
Apparently, the weeds weren't enough. He should've brought more water and food, but he only had his rags for clothes and a pair of tunic pants, pockets filled with holes.
A bright green faerie grabbed a clump of his dark hair, the shade of dark brown, whom the other children referred to as similar to mud. Asagai finally withdrew his knife and pointed it to the fae's body — not that he planned on hurting them, since he heard from the folks that faeries were vengeful beings. The fae crossly spoke a couple of incoherent phrases before flying off, her three pairs of crystalline-like wings seemingly humming as she did so.
