Title: LIFE WITH FESTY
Genre: MG Fantasy
Being the only boggart in a forest village full of elves had its perks. They had no prior knowledge of his kind, so the boggart did as he pleased while the others went about their chores. Not that he was useless. Awkward, maybe. Overbearing, certainly.
Misunderstood...always. But Festy thought in another fifty years or so, he’d fit right in.
The squirrel-sized boggart flew around the cluster of tree hole homes to slurp water from the nearby creek. A bucktooth hung out of either side of his snout as he caught a whiff of excitement—the last day of summer—a celebration with food, fun, and an extraordinary play (with only one actor).
Festy drew his bat-like wings in front of him like a stage curtain. His big round eyes peeked out as he flung his arms open for his first scene: “Hark! Who goes there?” he said in his thick British accent.
His lean blue body leapt over a fallen tree limb and landed on a pair of pointy feet attached to an irritated elf. Festy froze. Two of the elf leaders stood in his path.
Rue crossed her leafy arms. The bristly yellow flowers that grew out of her body sprung up and down impatiently as if they too were annoyed with him. “Festy, we do not have time to endure,” she paused, “that is, enjoy, your entertainment this evening.” She pruned a dead branch off of a nearby fern with one quick snap.