"So, what are the wood folk actually like?" asked Jess.

Mike stopped to hold back an errant bramble. "Depends on the wood folk."

"Well, you haven't really said who we're going to meet yet," Jess said, passing Mike.

He let the branch fall and continued to lead the way. "There's a few different groups in these woods."

"Such as?" prompted Jess.

"First is dryads. They're not chatty folk though so don't expect much," explained Mike. "Then there's elf folk."

Jess screwed up her face. One elf was enough...

Mike continued, unconcerned. "Last is some of the Padfeet."

"Padfeet?" asked Jess.

"Yeah. Humans sometimes call them 'part-human, part-animal'," Mike answered. "Insulting really."

"Thinking they're part animal?" asked Jess.

"No," replied Mike, "Assuming they're part human."

Jess blinked in surprise, but Mike quickly added, "No offence, of course." He turned to glance at her over his shoulder, assessing her reaction.

"No offence taken," replied Jess. "At the end of the day, we're all animals really. Humans just tend to be... well. Oblivious of that fact."

Mike smirked at that but turned to continue leading the way. The path was becoming less defined as they continued to walk. It barely passed as a path at all now, merely a less shrubby strip of brown that wound through the ferns and matted brambles. As they continued, a thought occurred to Jess.

"Do Dryads photosynthesise?"

"Do Dryads what?" asked Mike, pausing to cast a quizzical glance in her direction.

"Do they use sunlight?" asked Jess. "Instead of eating food. Like plants do."

His ear flicked as he contemplated her question. "Don't know. Never asked."

"Would it be rude if I asked?"

"Don't know."

"Would it be less rude if you asked?"

"Don't know."

Jess blew some errant strands of hair from her face in frustration. "I thought you said you were on good terms with them!"

Mike chuckled. "It's more complicated than that with Dryads."

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Jess in a waspish tone.

"Ye'll see."

They walked for the better part of half an hour before Mike paused. Jess couldn't tell what was so different about this section of woodland. There were no discerning features, especially since the track they were following seemed to have completely disappeared sometime before. The idea that they might be lost played heavily on her mind.

Mike appeared to be at ease and Jess watched as he casually looked around at the trees. I hope they're not the dryads, Jess suddenly thought. Creeping dread spread through her. Her neighbour's sycamore tree grew around four feet every year every time it was pruned. There was no way that the school could host a young tree indoors. That was ignoring the issue of hydration if it had roots like a regular tree.

"I've brought a human," announced Mike. He waved a hand in Jess's direction. "She wishes to propose an offer."

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"Hello," Jess called out, waving a hand nervously.

A songbird's call rang out shrilly, causing her to jump with fright. It was the only sound to be heard in the woods apart from her laboured breathing. She took a few steps to bring her closer to Mike as she warily glanced around.

"Introduce yeself," he hissed under his breath.

Jess gulped. "My name - my name is Jessica Harper. I was hoping that you might - I mean. I'm opening a school. I was hoping to maybe discuss it... with you. If any of your children wished to join. They would be welcome."

Mike's ears lay back against his head as he gave her a flat stare.

"Stop that," she whispered. "I'm just nervous. Ok?"

They waited together in silence, listening for a response from the woods, but none came. Not a single word. Jess's doubts began to rise, clamouring for attention and drowning out her nervousness.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" she asked.

"It is," Mike affirmed.

"There's not any chance that you might have been mixed up, somehow?"

Mike ignored her question and instead, he raised his voice to call out into the woods. "Dryads. Cousins of the wood folk. The human means no harm. Nor disrespect. Her offer is an honest one."

Jess peered around, growing increasingly suspicious of the ominous silence. After a short time, Mike sighed heavily.

"I don't think they're interested," he admitted quietly.

"What on Earth gave you that idea?" asked Jess dryly. She gave one final look around before starting to head back in the direction that they had arrived from. "Let's go then. Elves next, yeah?"

"Elfs," Mike corrected her. Jess glanced back with a confused frown but changed her mind quickly. The world's funny enough without questioning spelling.

The walk to the elf village took considerably longer than the walk to the dryads, though Jess was completely lost in the woods. She wasn't even sure how far they had backtracked or how far away from the city they were. The trees seemed to flood her vision for miles around until she realised that there were increasing numbers of fruiting trees and flowers.

Swaths of bluebells carpeted the woods, with eruptions of yellow daffodils and crocuses in other bright colours. The sight of them made Jess smile. The feeling was short-lived as they continued onwards, following the curiously green clover path that marked their way. Hydrangea, heavy with blue and pink blossoms were present. Foxgloves reached high above wide green leaves while Black-eyed Susans bobbed merrily in the breeze. Their dark centres seemed to follow Jess as they walked by, eerily staring and sending rippling shivers up her spine. A sensation that was even more unpleasant when paired with the knowledge that the abundant foliage would never usually bloom within the same season.

"Why aren't there any butterflies?" Jess asked quietly. "Or bees. This whole place should be buzzing with them."

Mike cleared his throat with a cough. "That's not a question ye want answered." His tail flickered. Suspicious. Warily, Jess made the effort to carefully avoid coming into contact with any of the sinister yet tempting blooms.

The homes that slowly came into view were thoroughly unexpected. Jess had envisioned a summer version of Santa's grotto. Cutesy wooden cabins with white picket fences and oodles and oodles of heavily floral garlands. When she saw the homes, unimpeded by the tree line, they took her breath away.

Carefully woven orbs hung suspended from the trees while others lay nestled among the greenery on the woodland floor. They looked like wicker baskets, shaped like enclosed, domed bird nests. Each one was decorated with climbing flowers so that they looked like candied Easter eggs, festooning the area. Tiny faces peeked out of oval doorways. Jess could almost taste the hostility that those cherubic faces radiated. This won't be an easy sell.

An elderly elf appeared from around the side of one of the wicker orbs. It was difficult to see much of his face behind the thick, white beard with wildflowers haphazardly woven throughout. He leaned heavily on a cane and though he was severely hunched over with age, Jess could clearly see that he wouldn't even reach her shoulder in height if he were to stand up straight.

"Good morning, Elder," Mike greeted the elf. "Is the Wisdom unavailable this fine day?"

The Elder replied with a string of loosely strung-together syllables that resembled words, followed by a hacking cough.

While he was busy, Jess lifted a hand as though scratching an itch on her face and furtively whispered to Mike. "Please tell me you understood some of that." The panicked look in Mike's eyes suggested to her that he had not.

The coughing subsided and instead of speaking again, the old elf merely gazed at Mike and Jess expectantly. His frail frame seemed to shake in the gentle breeze.

Jess wasn't sure if Elder was his official title, but if it worked for Mike then it was good enough for her. "Good morning, Elder. My name is Jessica Harper. I was hoping that..."

She was forced to halt mid-sentence by the old man raising a hand. He began to pat himself down as though searching for something and then from beneath his green robes he withdrew a horn tipped with brass. Jess could only curse inwardly as he raised the tip of the horn to his ear. Brilliant. We can't understand a damn word he says, and he can't hear a word that we say.

In a louder voice, projecting as clearly as she could without shouting, she introduced herself again. "My name is Jessica Harper, Sir."

"Harperson?" the old man replied in a tremulous voice.

Close enough, she thought. "Yes. I am a schoolteacher."

The old man nodded and gave another string of sounds masquerading as words.

Jess forced a polite smile to mask her internal screaming.