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Fairies at the Threshold
part 18
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Ever so carefully she glanced down the hall to make certain no one was coming and put on the clothes she’d carefully chosen the day before. It had been some time since she’d left and she didn’t want to look a complete wreck, of course she had realized that she didn’t want to dress up too much and draw attention to herself given that she would likely be babbling to a spirit here and there so after a long debate with herself she’d ended up settling on a simple t-shirt. She glanced in the mirror and quickly started to brush her hair.
“Really?” Mischief groaned, and Fern could feel the spirit growing antsy as she ran the brush through her hair again. Mischief was the spirit of a raccoon and an otter or a mink, Fern really  couldn’t quite tell exactly what the spirits origins were given that she’d only seen her in the spirit world. With no name of her own Fern had decided to call the spirit Mischief, and she was the most vocal of the spirits which had come to live inside Fern’s body. Mischief always complained when Fern groomed herself, figuring there were more interesting things they could be doing, so Fern had learned to ignore the often obnoxious little spirit..
“You don’t have time to fix up your hair, lets just get out of here,” the spirit tried to reason as best it could.
Fern bit her lip as she looked at her frazzled hair wishing that she could spend longer with it but in this case Mischief was right, she didn’t have the time to spend on her hair that she would have liked.
A moment later dressed and ready to go Fern crept out of the laundry room her feet, callused from the intense exercises her training required to become a shaman, brushing gently against the wooden hallway floor past Fletcher who was sleeping on a couch, Fern grinned to herself, he’d been up studying vampires and house fairies all night so he probably wouldn’t be awake for quite some time which gave her the perfect opportunity to sneak out. She grabbed the cerial out of the cuboard, careful not to ring the string of bells she’d hung on the box to keep the domovoi away. The domovoi didn’t approve of such sweet food so he’d hid it from her the first few times she’d had Fletcher buy it for her.. The ancient fairy reminded Fern of a grouchy old man who had turned to mischief to cope with a lost childhood. Most mornings the domovoi would creep off to the neighbors in order to cause trouble for their cat, hide their keys, or creek the floorboards, which is probably why the neighbors were convinced that their house was haunted. Fern had learned quickly that ghosts were nothing like people thought they were, those humans whose spirits remained behind became a fairies or a spirits such as; banshees, domovoi, or even the spirits of some trees were humans who’d passed on. She poared the cerial into a sandwich bag and didn’t bother with the milk, she couldn’t chance eating it here and having Fletcher wake up so she just grabbed a bottle of water to drink went to the door.

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