<strong>Tiny Threats</strong><br/>Into a burlap sack the pixies scooped, and a job well done! Tiny fists poked from the inside with all the force of a finger prod. More hurtful were the curses muffled through the cloth.<br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 7pt;">"Fobbing clay-brained puttock!"<br/>"Villainous clack-dished bugbears!"<br/>"Your gleeking flap-mouthed minnow is a sheep's cocklebur!"</span><br/>And for whatever any of that meant, they tired themselves out asserting it. The captured pixies went peacefully, by a perspective of scale.<br/><br/>Now it was late. The farm was quiet, but the windows of Ishi's front room were softly glowing. The door was unlocked, and inside was Ishi sitting at her small table, paging through a thick book of leaf diagrams, stem illustrations, and clinical line drawings of flowers. There was the feeble white potted plant she'd taken from the cellar, occupying about the same volume and place of a cup of coffee. Her ears perked when she detected a presence. "Already? That was fast. You're sure you got them all? It just takes one, you know."