magic seep through them. A wispy green light danced between my palms and the human whelp dropped his mug of mead, its contents spewing onto the wooden floor.
“I might do something unpleasant.” I growled finally, sending the boy bolting from the tavern.
A burst of raucous laughter from the other young men in the tavern brought me back to the ground. I threw a glare at the table they sat around, and a few stopped, horrified. The others guffawed even harder, beating their mugs on the table. Had I become some sort of sick right-of-passage for these farm-children? I recognized them: I had pulled the same trick with them only months before.
I glared at my hand. In my palm sat the small, leafy green plant that I had just conjured. Fauns had a great difficulty with offensive magic, being so attached to the living things of the world. It was a fact that I would have liked to forget.
Ignoring the young humans’ glee, I threw myself down into my chair again, setting my hoofed feet on the table. I glared venomously at my cup as it caught and reflected the dancing light from a candle. Sure, my legs were that of a goat, and I had furry ears protruding from the top of my head instead of hairless ones on each side, not to mention the fluffy tail hidden beneath my skirts, but was it necessary to make me a walking freak show?
My brooding was interrupted as an old, withered hand waved in front of my eyes. Looking up from my stupor, I met a friendly face.
My infrequent drinking buddy, Morrense, stood before me. His clear and slightly protruding blue eyes looked steadily into mine, and a comfortable smile appeared behind his nearly white beard, making his wrinkly cheeks pinch upward. The man was physically crooked and gnarled like an ancient tree, and he had been around long enough to gather the most interesting stories. However, by the way he clutched his walking stick, I felt that he did not seek me out for idle chatter.
“H’lo, Morrense,” I slurred slightly, “what can I do for you today?” I leaned forward and placed my little magic plant on the table. It would not live long, even if I cared for it.
The old man gave a raspy chuckle. “You always know, don’t you, young’un? What people want to talk to you for, you always have an inkling.”
I gave a short laugh. “That’s ridiculous, friend. You mortals just make is easy for me.” Perhaps that was one other reason why I liked living in a town full of humans.