... And the snow began to melt. A hundred colours began to emerge from the white, a thousand noises found their voices after a winter of silence. One of the loudest sounds was the sound of the pixies. Old pixies, young pixies, loud pixies, even louder pixies, never a quiet pixie. They came out of the warm holes they had been hiding in during the colder months and began searching for they snugs where they would enjoy the sun. And as the pixies spread out across the thawing ground, they borrowed. They took all they needed for the greatest of pixie festivals, the spring festival of Umbartu.
Pixies will dance, sing, laugh cry, win, lose, eat, drink, love and lust over three days of wild partying that the whole of the countryside would notice and fear.
And then they would return to their snugs and wait.
And it was the waiting everyone really feared...
To be continued... Maybe!