Díograsach

squinted suspiciously at the old doll house that was big enough to take up the entirety of a single table. They’d had it for years, though Maeve had never sold it. Not because no one wanted it but because she always said it wasn’t for sale. She never gave a reason why and he never asked.

However, the voices coming from said doll house probably meant he should have asked why she never sold the ugly looking thing.

“I think there’s someone in the doll house,” he told her when she walked out from the storage cupboard. He was mildly worried when he saw her face light up, that was never good.

“There’s only a few people I know who like that thing,” she said as she walked over to the doll house and opened it up.

Inside, spread throughout the house much like dolls would’ve been had there been any there, were several 6 inch men. They all had ginger hair and beards, and were dressed in tartan kilts.

Upon looking up at the faerie, a gruff chorus of welcomes rang out.

“Bin a while, hasnae it, bonnie Maeve?” A man with several braids in his beard said, walking up to her.

“Indeed it has, Hamish,” the green haired girl agreed, smiling down at him.