In the great sea-glass forest, on the banks of the creek that ran with mercury, the kind and wise princess Lainey skinned her knee. It hurt, a lot, and she cried out, and the sea-glass trees, worried for her, echoed her cry of pain all through the forest.
Princess Lainey and her party of cartographers and anthropologists immediately retreated back to the castle, so that the scraped knee of the the princess could receive proper medical treatment and she could return to her adventures.
When the castle staff had washed her knee with soap and water and Lainey had made herself comfortable in the infirmary, her subjects began to try and heal their princess. First came the snail witches, who placed a snail on each of Lainey’s toes and sang her a song in the language cats use to talk to each other. Lainey didn’t care for that at all, not one bit. Next came the mathematicians, who took their compasses and rules and were able to prove quite conclusively that Lainey had been healed. But Lainey didn’t feel healed, and the mathematicians began quibbling about one of their definitions and left. After that were the bird head doctors, and the lightening bugs (who delivered ineffective suggestions via morse code) and the healing horses, but nobody could heal Princess Lainey’s scraped knee.
Then the queen, Lainey’s mother, heard the ruckus in the infirmary and came to see what was the matter. When she saw her daughter crying and holding her knee, she told everyone to get out of the room. Then she kissed Lainey’s scrape, and it was instantly healed.
“Now go and play,” said her mother, “and stop hanging out with the royal mathematicians.”
Lainey ran all the way back to the sea-glass forest. There were adventures to be had.
Written on 2/20/16 for a princess.