Little Prytt lived in quite a special house, a house that went with her wherever she went and kept her warm on cold nights. It was not because it was made of sturdy brick and stone, not because it was nestled close in the embracing arms of a broad oak, or because it was protected in the close company of the village. Her home hummed and trilled and sang songs with her on dark nights. It moved quietly and slowly through even the rockiest terrain and took her to magical places, although she never left home. Most importantly of all, it was her friend and companion- something no ordinary house could ever be.
Little Prytt’s house was, in fact, her best friend. Many nights they watched the luminous sun bow graciously at the sill of the world, bidding the sweet, quiet forest goodnight before it slipped silently into its nightly bed. Then, in the lavender twilight, the dancing lights of fireflies emerged from the emeraldine canopy, descending with jubilant, scintillating sparkles that brightened the dimness, surrounding Little Prytt and her smiling home. Together they would giggle and play while the effervescent evening sighed.
One fine morning, Little Prytt fluttered out her door and said to her home, “Simyn Snail, this feels like the day for a grand adventure.”
Simyn chuckled, a deep rumbling sound that sent tiny vibrations along the tips of Little Prytt’s wings. The sun shone a beam of light onto the forest floor, drawing Prytt towards it and the magic of a new dawn. She danced along the beam, twirling and weaving to a rhythm as familiar as the beating of her heart. The accompaniment from Simyn was a sweet music. It rose and fell as Prytt did, gliding and swirling as it gripped them both. It was a celebration; a party for two, for they were the only ones caught in the moment. Or so they thought.
It was Prytt who sensed it first. Shifting from light to dark, she felt the shadow – cold against her skin. Only one creature in the forest could make her feel that way: the rarely seen, but often feared crimson dragon!
Simyn felt it too and shuddered as a result. She heard the proof of his discomfort when the dishes and glasses inside her house rattled precariously. What could the monster want and why was he following them? It didn’t make any sense. It was daylight and dragons rarely came out in the morning sun.
Ignoring the great and terrible beast was the best option, she decided.
She shot up into the air and called out in her most cheerful voice. “Come on, Simyn. Let’s go to the clearing and spend the day eating berries and drinking from the Laughing Brook.”
Simyn mumbled uncertainly, but followed her as she fluttered out of the deep emerald shadows into the brighter light of the clear day. It wasn’t far to the clearing, only a few yards, though a few yards is farther than the average snail might choose to travel in one day.
End Part One
This Wonderful, Mythical story is the result of an entirely enjoyable collaboration with Melissa Barker-Simpson of: http://mbarkersimpson.wordpress.com . We had such a wonderful, relaxed time writing this story, not knowing where we would begin, what we would be writing about, or where the story would take us. We simply began with a picture and a few short paragraphs that I wrote to start us off. Each building upon the others creativity and inspiration, it was a pure delight every time I would get her return emails, excited to see what she had done with the story and the tale we were creating. I hope you enjoy the story as much as I do, for it simply makes me smile. I look forward to working with Mel in the future on other stories. Thank You EVER SO, Mel!
Beautiful Original Artwork: Hotel Lumaca by Nataly1st