They always warn children never to go in faerie circles. But children were known to never listen. The circles were inviting, large rings of mushrooms that practically glowed in the dewy twilight as the children chased fireflies and shrieked in the late summer heat.  They fell and rolled around in their joy at the small bugs, hardly noticing or caring that they had stumbled into one.
Old grannies warn especially adventurous children to never speak to faeries.  But since they were already in the circle, the children felt no danger. Nothing bad had happened yet, so they felt fine and safe. As they sat there with the fireflies and their small giggles, faeries slowly started to dance into view, spinning and twirling around on their wings of glitter and stardust.  They circled around the children in their dancing and joy-making, pleased to finally have guests.
Won’t you dance with us, they giggled.
Won’t you dance with us, they sang.
It’s not every day we have such beautiful guests!
Won’t you dance with us please?
Won’t you play with us please?
Old widows would always pull children aside before they went to play, warning to never make a deal with faeries, never dance with them, never join in their merriment. The children looked at the faeries, eyes wide at these small sparkly sprites. All those warnings from their parents seemed foolish and silly. After all, how bad could a little dancing be? So up the children got, and they reached out to join the faeries in their merriment and celebration, dancing in the unending hours between day and night.
The children’s mothers had warned them that if a faerie ever offered them their food or drink, that they must not eat it. For if they ever ate of it, they would never be able to leave the faerie’s realm. But soon the children tired. Their eyes drooped; their feet stumbled in their slowing dance. The faeries looked confused.
Why are you stopping, they said.
Why are you slowing, they questioned.
Don’t you want to dance with us? Don’t you want to play?
We ache, we thirst, we hunger, the children said. We can no longer dance. The faeries laughed at their whining and brought them sweet dew from the surrounding mushrooms to appease their thirst. They chuckled and brought sweet honey and cakes to appease their hunger.
The honey looked sweet and the dew looked refreshing, so the children ate and drank and watched the beautiful creatures flit and fly around. Soon, they felt refreshed and joined in the dancing once more, unconcerned by the approaching twilight. They danced and danced in the evening air and laughed at the adults concern, for the faeries were delightful to their eyes and magically fun.
They always warn children never to go into faerie circles. But the children had long ago stopped listening, for they had danced the night away and now rested beneath the soil of the ring, in a bed of roots and worms, as mushrooms thrived above their noses.