Shimmering Frank hung upside down, his dainty foot caught in the crude snare trap. He fluttered his wings again, this time as hard as he could. Still no luck. He was trapped.
He sighed. A tiny bottle of honey wine just sitting there seemingly unattended. One of the oldest tricks in the book. Who falls for that?
Apparently, he does…
Like it wasn’t tough enough being a male sprite. Now this. Shimmering Frank knew he would be pitied by every creature in the Enchanted Forest.
The worst part: some snotnosed human child had set the trap.
Talk about freaking humiliating.
The Weekday One Hundred 