Bribery and Corruption

A 2-post collection

Challenge #02859-G302: Fae Fascination

The Fates, the Benevolent ones, In olden times mothers used to leave cake and wine so they'd look kindly on a newborn. She was no fool, a neatly sliced black forest cake, a bottle of very good dessert wine and a bag of superfine merino fleece. -- Nonn7mouse

Upon bringing a newborn into the house, it is tradition to give a gift to the Fae to prevent the child being stolen, and so that the Benevolent Ones look kindly upon the new life in the home and lands. At this point, it must be noted that they are called "Benevolent Ones" with the same optimism someone calls a growling dog with orange eyebrows "nice doggy". For almost a hundred years, nobody took it seriously, leaving a cheap bottle of wine and a low-budget cake somewhere within a fungus circle or within a suitably fae nature spot.

The child in the crook of her arm had been born small, born ill, and born at great risk to herself to the point where it was inadvisable to birth any other child. He was healthy enough to be at home, but the doctors insisted she should call the instant anything went wrong. Nobody really believed in the Fair Folk any more. Not seriously. Nevertheless, Lyla reasoned, it was time to pull out the Big Guns.

With her tiny son close to her chest, she cooked the best black forest gateau that she could find. She unearthed a bottle of the finest wine from her uncle's cellar. That was gift of the kitchen, and gift of the vine... for a good future, one must also include a gift of the field. Well. She wouldn't be spinning any time soon...

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Good morning, territorial flying saurians!

As you know if you read my personal blither, I've taken up walking around the block for my daily fitness regime. In the pre-dawn twilight, it's generally peaceful and nothing much is going on.

Not this morning.

This morning, a lovely pair of nesting murder-birds [aka "plovers" aka Masked Lapwings] decided that my morning walk was personally offensive and invasion of their privacy.

Now, plovers will warn you with their signature 'back off' call of sharp, harsh shrieks [spelled "kee kee kee"

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