Little woman in the Big City (Tinkerbell arrives, narrative)
A shimmering thread of gold arched gracefully across the sky of The City. Thin spiraling offshoots of glimmering star dust spun off in the wake of the main glittering body. In the post snow clearness of the sky that shooting star was brilliantly framed against the black velvet night. The closer it came to the ground the louder a faint tinkling of bells could be heard. Soft clear and sweet as dew ripened berries the sound carried with the motion of the ball of light.
Beauty of illumination and sound coming to an end in a spectacular collision with... a mailbox. The thud was not overwhelming, the sort of noise made when a misguided blue jay mistakes a clean window for a safe passage. But the thud was there none the less, and the pretty trilling bells ended with it, the glittering gold faded to a humble bit of light on the ground at the foot of the box.
It took some time for the tiny thing to get her bearings, first shaking her miniscule blond haired head, and then blinking wide doe eyes of mermaid lagoon blue. She blinked and looked about her, look of surprise soon slipping to a pout and frown. Tiny hands pushed her up to tiny knees and then adorable slippered feet. The sound of bells returned, but comically brassy now as her head bobbed back in forth in a pantomime of irritation, dainty little fingers brushing waves of glittering and non glittering dust from her.
Well this was just dandy wasn't it? She had been locked in the wretched lamp of Hook's, forced to make the humans fly, fought with her dear Peter and finally when all looked well...through some twist of magic she was here. She knew not where 'here' was per say, but it was not Neverland. The stars above reckoned that well enough, and she knew how Neverland felt. This was someplace new.
She paused in her thoughts and her face screwed up in an expression of thinking or...one hand slapped it palm to her right ear, forcing more pixie dust out of her opposing ear and easing the pressure which had been her source of irritation. Ahhh that was ever so much better. Now, where was she..well..in terms of doing things not in terms of location. This place reeked of magic..of..something alive. Like the lagoon or the forest. Faeries could always tell living things and she bent to lay a hand to the ground, patting this living entity with a smile. She knew how if felt to be alive and treated as though you were merely something to be used.
When she stood, the proud little fae girl fluttered her wings a few times, stretching the kinks out of the iridescent insect like appendages. She found herself in good enough physical condition to fly, and so she did. In the silence of the night she buzzed by windows, pausing to look in now and again. She hovered over cars and spotted two grown up's doing ... oh my they were sharing a very adamant thimble! Tinkerbell flew, and spied, and peeked most of the night, tiring only when the sun began to creep up and warm her body.
High in an oak tree she found a nest some bird had vacated, it was soft and warm and even had a few feathers left that she could form into makeshift pillows and blankets. With a sleepy yawn and stretch the pixie-duster curled up in her bed and drifted off to slumber. Tinkerbell had arrived, and the City would be a bit more sparkly for it.