He was tall, lanky even, with two spindly legs that carried him behind her like exclamation points at the end of her name. The faerie queen liked this boy very much. She tucked her hair behind her ear, letting the multiple piercings catch the moonlight, and took him by the hand to lead him toward the cluster of erratically grown mushrooms beneath the oak tree.
"Just to be clear," she told the boy, "this is what they call 'being pixie-led.' You're being pixie led right now."
"You know, I think I knew that," he told her with a shrug and a smile. He stopped at the edge of the mushroom cluster and poked at one toadstool with the toe of his plaid canvas shoe. "Why did I think that faeries dance in, like, a circle of mushrooms or something?" He suddenly moved his foot back. "Should I not touch that?"
The faerie queen laughed and wove her fingers into the spaces between his. "Relax," she told him, "we're much less formal than you think. Circles are fun, but we can dance just fine without them." She thought of how he had looked at the club, jumping and bouncing to the music on those skinny legs that had shouted to her from across the room. His hair was a crown of red-tipped spikes that had held its shape despite his frenzy. She couldn't wait to see what kind of mess she could make of it.
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