March 24th excerpt: 

“IPod?” Sam repeated in confusion, latching onto the alien word. “Is it like a cassette player? Or some kind of stereo? Can you carry it with you?” He paused for a second, confusion shining in his eyes.

“Ah,” Jacob said simply, trying to catch up with Sam’s frame of reference. Hearing him ask about a cassette player while standing there at all of four inches tall was a little jarring, but it gave Jacob a slightly better idea. “Yeah, it’s a portable music player,” he explained. “I have something kinda like it.”

March 23rd excerpt:

“Jacob, you can’t just keep us under the bucket,” Sam called out, his voice loud enough to escape the bucket. “You’re going to have to let us out eventually.”

Jacob sat back and ran a hand through his hair absently. He stared down at the bucket and contemplated Sam’s words. “Yeah, I … holy shit,” he answered distractedly, unsure of what he could even say to them. He’d just trapped them without even thinking about it.

March 22nd excerpt: 

Leaping out from behind the backpack, Sam pulled out his rapier and held it towards the human. There was no doubt in his mind that he would actually use the sword if he needed to.

Sprites were pacifists. Sam was not.

“Let my brother go, you mountain of snakeskin!” Sam called out in a commanding voice. It wavered slightly at the sight of how much bigger the human was compared to them both, even just sitting down. He pressed stubbornly on. “He never did anything to you!”

March 21st excerpt: 

“C’mon, won’t you chill? I said I wouldn’t hurt you. Won’t you talk to me? At least tell me your name and what you are!”

“I don’t want to!”

“Why?”

“I don’t owe you a reason!”

March 20th excerpt: 

Sam almost held his breath as the human came into view. Footsteps that looked like normal steps sent vibrations through the ground, shaking him all the where from where he was hiding in the shadow of the backpack. The sight of the immense guy stretching sent chills up his back.

The kid was tall.

He was clearly younger than Sam, his features softer. That wouldn’t matter very much, unfortunately. Sam couldn’t be longer than a finger, if that.

March 19th excerpt: 

Bowman flew side to side, and banked in a loop around the enormous thing, as quickly distracted as Sam had been. He checked it from all angles, frowning at the strange materials of it and glancing up at Sam to see if he knew what it was. Bowman dove closer to it, curious and wondering if … maybe a giant was nearby!

There were other oddities in the clearing. Right in the middle, a spade bigger than Bowman’s bed sat idly next to a pit dug in the ground, one almost as deep as Bowman and Sam were tall. Pieces of wood, broken and arranged neatly, were piled next to the clearing’s one boulder.

March 18th excerpt:

A light tap tap tap of little shoes preceded a young girl all but bursting out of the hall and into the main room of the bigger house, a smile lighting up her dark skinned face. Golden eyes peered up at Sam and she bounded towards him. Her dainty wings were folded behind her back, and her two braids and the colorful scarf tied at her waist swished with every jolly step.

“Good morning, Sam!” Rischa greeted. “Daddy already left, mama’s making mintbread, and Bowman just grumbled at me when I checked on him.”

March 17th excerpt: 

Bowman’s ears twitched at the faintest sound of … sobbing. He could hear sobbing.

“Sam?” he said quietly, padding towards the room again. He found Sam curled up on his bed, hands over his eyes while he was crying. Bowman’s wings drooped. He didn’t understand why his new friend was so sad, but he decided he should try to help. In lieu of saying anything, Bowman walked up to the bed and nudged at Sam’s arm.

March 16th excerpt: 

“There are warnings that humans are dangerous to us. That they’d cage or eat a sprite, or pull at their wings.” Scar narrowed his eyes at this, looking thoughtful. Cerul could feel strains of doubt among his pensive friend’s restless emotions.

“Call me crazy but that nestling isn’t anything like that,” Scar insisted. “Even if he was … four and a half blasted feet tall, I doubt he’d want to hurt a fly.”

March 15th excerpt: 

“What do you mean, ’if they’re sprite-sized?’ ” the same patrolsprite blurted again, though this time she had the support of a few other murmurs of agreement. Scar was pleased that his knights knew not to join in the blasted murmurs.