"This fella's a real work of art, not to mention his great fashion sense!" Rosetta fanned herself dramatically, her cheeks flushed as she knelt beside him. Her delicate fingers traced over his chest—though no one could tell whether she admired the fabric or the firm muscle beneath.
"I know what you mean," Fawn chimed in, unable to stop grinning. "Look at these muscles! He could wrestle a bear and win with babies like these!" She gave a playful squeeze to his arm, her smile silly and unguarded, unaware of the tiny line of drool forming on her lips.
The claim wasn't an exaggeration. They'd scoured him from head to toe—no bruises, no broken bones, no scratches. Not even a mark. It was unbelievable. Whatever he was, no fairy or sparrowman could have survived that fall unscathed.
"His hair…" Silvermist whispered dreamily, still sitting at his head, fingers gliding through the silken strands. "It's softer than his wings…" Her voice was barely audible, her expression one of quiet bliss. Sometimes her eyes flickered toward his lips, and each time they did, her cheeks deepened with color.
Iridessa remained silent, her expression conflicted as her fingers traced his leg. Every part of her screamed that she should stop, but her body refused to obey. Her palms moved up his thigh on their own accord, and each inch higher made her heart pound faster. This isn't right… so why does it feel so… safe?
Tinker Bell, ever the curious one, sat between his legs with her usual tinkerer's fascination. Her blue eyes studied the violet gem on his belt buckle, her reflection glinting faintly on its surface. She traced its edge lightly with a finger, wondering what sort of material it was. But as her gaze drifted lower, she noticed a strange bump beneath the fabric. Her breath caught.
"Strange…" she murmured, poking it quickly, curiosity winning over confusion. The odd shape made her feel all fluttery inside, though she didn't quite understand why. When she glanced at her reflection again, her face was bright red.
Vidia stood apart, arms crossed, expression torn between disdain and temptation. She had come only to investigate the crash, to prove herself the quickest responder—as usual. But the longer she looked at him, the faster her heart beat, her breath coming shorter. He's… big.
"Come here, Vidia," Silvermist called softly. "You'll see better from this side." Her voice was calm, soothing—like the gentle ripple of a pond.
Vidia hesitated but floated closer, finally settling beside the water fairy. She watched Silvermist's graceful movements, then hesitantly copied them—running her fingers through his hair. The strands slid like liquid silk through her hand, sending a shiver down her spine. She didn't stop. Her fingers followed the curve of his ear, then the strong line of his jaw, pausing at his lips.
They were perfect. Not too soft, not too harsh—inviting in a way that made her chest feel tight. Her palm lingered against his cheek. Instinct whispered just one kiss. No one would know. Just one.
She leaned forward slowly, breath trembling. His warmth brushed her nose; his scent surrounded her, dizzying and divine. Her lips parted, heart thundering—
"What are you all doing?"
The firm, motherly voice froze them in place. Six fairies turned in unison, faces drained of color.
Hovering above the wreckage was Queen Clarion, radiant and ethereal in her golden gown of dust and light, her expression calm but unmistakably stern. A squad of scout-talent fairies stood behind her, led by none other than Nyx, her amber eyes sharp as ever.
In another world, perhaps, Clarion's beauty would have been called divine—mature, regal, and impossibly graceful. Here, it only made the six fairies shrink further, like guilty children caught red-handed.
Clarion's eyes swept over the scene—the devastation, the unconscious stranger, and the six flustered fairies hovering around him like guilty moths around a lantern. "Would anyone care to explain," she began gently, "what exactly is going on here?"
They spoke all at once, voices tripping over one another as they recounted the fall, the light, the crash—everything except the snuggling and the touching. Clarion listened quietly, thoughtful.
When they finished, she nodded slowly. "A star fairy, then…" she murmured, the term rolling off her tongue like a half-remembered dream. "I have never seen anything like him."
Her calm tone steadied the others, even as the scout fairies behind her leaned forward, whispering excitedly.
"Wow, look at that body!"
"He's built like a mountain!"
"And those wings…"
"So handsome!"
"I want to touch his hair!"
That last comment made Silvermist snap to attention, glaring at the offender with a silent, icy smile that promised a very wet retaliation.
Clarion raised a graceful hand, silencing them all. "Enough, my fairies." She exhaled, steady but clearly affected herself. "We don't know who—or what—he is. But we mustn't treat him as a curiosity. We'll take him to the healing-talent fairies for care. When he wakes, we'll have our answers."
Her gaze flicked away for a moment, as though looking at him made her thoughts stumble. "Nyx," she ordered, "assemble your scouts. Help carry him to the wards. You six—follow."
"Yes, Your Majesty," Nyx replied briskly. Her disciplined stance softened only slightly as she looked down at him. He survived that fall? Unbelievable.
She hesitated, instincts warning her to keep her guard up. But she'd obey her queen. It's better to have him close, where she can keep an eye on him.
She stepped forward with her squad—then froze.
A deep, smooth voice broke the quiet.
"It's a lovely night, don't you all think?"
The words rolled through the air like silk and thunder. Every fairy's head turned sharply toward the sound.
The stranger's eyes were open—calm, golden, and impossibly bright—as he looked up at the stars with a faint smile.
Would you like me to continue this directly into the next chapter (Chapter 5: "The Awakening of the Star Fairy") in the same tone and cinematic rhythm?