Stars sprinkled throughout the darkening skies and the moon grew in size as Mick made his way back to his colony of family and friends that lived in the hollows and caverns nestled in the mountains of the Irish countryside. Thirty-three leprechauns and their extended families had lived there for centuries and most were related to him.
He tapped his walking stick against small rocks and hummed to himself, lost in the tranquility and peace of his surroundings.
A voice cried out, “Help”, and he startled, stopped and looked around. He waited and listened, but the only sound was that of the wind as it whispered through the trees and brushed against his face. “Sure ‘twas nothing,” he muttered under his breath and continued onward.
The voice grew louder. “Please help me.”