The faeries were laughing at her.
They were watching her from above. All gathered around the table, eating and drinking their delicious food, and pausing to laugh at her.
She didn’t understand why they were laughing at her. She didn’t want to join them. She knew they were better than her, and she really didn’t need to be with them. She would rather get away, be among her own kind.
But she was walking toward them, walking without moving, and that didn’t make sense either. What were they doing to her?