Poetry

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"Down the Wishing Well" by almightynyx
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Yottir glanced back at Schyff, frowning. "There's a lot that I wouldn't do if I were you, either," he retorted. "I just want to see where the magic comes from." Schyff rolled his eyes. "Magic doesn't exist outside of what the faeries can do, Yottir." "Then how do you suppose this thing always grants everyone all these crazy wishes?" the Xweetok went back on to his tiptoes and peered into the Wishing Well, leaning into it to a rather dangerous degree. "Do you think it has magic of its own? Or maybe some faeries live in here. Maybe there's such thing as Well Faeries! Could you imagine that, Schyff?" "No," the Hissi said simply. "There are no 'Well Faeries.' That would just be silly." "Maybe they're sleeping. The Well Faeries are sleeping." "Yottir, Well Faeries aren't real."

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