She wrote all her dreams in a little book. One day she started writing songs about her dreams. When she sang her songs, all the animals of the forest poked their heads up and tilted their ears to her voice.

One day the young girl with the curly brown hair was walking through the woods and an evil, wrinkled, prune-faced old troll man shot her with a teeny tiny arrow. She felt a pinch but thought nothing more of it.

When she got home, though, she started to get very, very sick. Every day she grew a little weaker and finally, she couldn't even walk out of her house any more. Even still, she wrote her songs, pages and pages and pages of them, sheets and sheets and sheets, and knew one day she would be able to share them with kindred spirits.

After many, many years, the poison the troll shot in her decided it had stayed with her for long enough. Pop pop pop, it went, and the young girl, who was starting to become a strong woman, noticed a change. Full of gratitude, she went into the forest and breathed in the magical air. She didn't notice the little fairies swarming about her. How could she? They were smaller than the smallest dandelion seed and flitted about just as quickly. But they were always near, protecting and guarding her soul.

One day the girl decided to go to the far away city. She packed a little bag and took some of her music with her. She walked the path of the forest, twisting and winding, fairies by her side all along the way.

Midway through the forest, she met another girl who was on a journey of her own. They spent a night together as their paths had met, and all night long talked and laughed and giggled and hoped and dreamed. When they parted, they promised never to forget each other.

In the city the girl met lots of people who wanted to steal her songs. She held them tightly and shook her head vigorously. She knew they were hers alone, and only the right ears should hear them.

One night she met a very handsome, princely man who also wrote songs. He talked and talked to her, gave her gifts, and told her all the things she needed to hear. He cast an enchantment on her to make her forget everybody else she met along the way.

Little did she know that he was the evil, jealous troll who had shot her full of poison all those years before!

She shared her songs with him, and he eagerly soaked them in. He kept her in comfort, all the while planning to steal her songs.

But one day the girl felt something was very wrong. She overheard the princely man speaking his troll tongue in secret. Though she didn't understand the words, she a dread fell upon her. For a few days, she stuffed her dread deep inside of her, crying at night but smiling during the day.

One day, though, she had had enough. She summoned all the strength of the universe and went up to the man. She confronted him and as he pleaded his innocence, his princely demeanor gave way to the ugliness that was his true self.

Horrified, she ran away, but not before she muttered, "a curse upon you, and you shall never remember any of my songs!"

She stumbled back through the forest, alone and desperate, unsure of where to go next, and how she would ever write her songs again.

Finally, exhausted, she stumbled and collapsed at the foot of a willow tree. As she slept, the teeny tiny fairies began weaving a special bracelet of protection and courage about her wrist. It entwined itself around and around her arm. As she slept, her smile began to emerge once again.

She woke as the sun rose, and looked about her. A field of buttercups danced a greeting to her in the distance. Her eyes were tired from crying, but she knew something had grown and changed in her, and she would always keep writing her songs.

As she started down the path, a dandelion seed hung in front of her eye for a moment. At that second, she remembered the friend she had met on her journey toward the city, and knew she would find her and they would have many grand adventures together. Laughing, she continued homeward, certain of the knowledge that she had many more magical songs within her.

The End.