[dohtml]<div style= "width: 375px; text-align: justify; color: 272727; font-family: Trebuchet MS; font-size: 9px;">There were no palaces in Pixie Hollow; perhaps Queen Clarion’s area in the Home Tree could be considered a throne room of sorts, but no one ever referred to it as a castle. Everyone contributed to the décor and overall order of Pixie Hollow, which was planted firmly in fairy culture in that it was made of wood, flowers, and any lost thing one might find washed up on the Cove. No polished marble or ivory walls or pillars held any part of Pixie Hollow together. In fact, Terence had never seen such a surface in all his seasons – not even on one of his trips to the Mainland.
<br><br>So, one would guess he’d be very confused to wake up in an elegantly-decorated palace.
<br><br>The dust keeper talent blinked, his brain slowly processing that he was no longer in his bed but in an arrangement of pears. He wondered why he hadn’t woken up and noticed this sooner, since the hardness of the fruit was a big change from the soft mattress in his dorm room. He sighed; he had no knowledge of how he had ended up in a bowl of pears, in all places, but aside from the initial panic that came with waking up in an unfamiliar place, he was more irritated than scared or confused. "Come on! Again?" Terence sighed. He realized that this kind of predicament was becoming a normalcy in his life, being randomly thrown into places he had never even dreamed of before. Generally, he would somehow end up back at Pixie Hollow eventually, so he was pretty sure this time would be no different. In the meantime, he might as well figure out where he was.
<br><br>Making sure no one could see him, he launched himself from the bed of pears and down the elegantly-decorated hallway. Brushing the wall with his fingers, he felt the smooth surface of the foreign medium and admired the intricate design painted onto it. Terence found himself imagining what the culture was like, using any knowledge of clumsy customs he had (which was little). Was it a community of art talents, designing such patterns?
<br><br>Suddenly, a door opened at the end of the hallway. Panicking, he dove back into the clump of fruit he had woken up in, hoping the clumsy that had walked through the door hadn’t seen the glimmering trail of pixie dust left in his wake, despite the fact that it was painfully obvious in the lighting of the hallway.