[Ovelia's POV]
The morning air stung my cheeks as we stepped outside, crisp and fresh after the warmth of the inn. The fairy darted into my dress pocket, his tiny body pressing against the fabric as his prismatic wings emitted a faint glow.
"I'm full," came his muffled voice, followed by the sound of tiny hands patting a satisfied stomach. "The food was... acceptable." He paused, then added with a grumpy sniff, "The cream puffs were tolerable. The strawberry tart was mediocre at best. And the chocolate—" He hiccupped. "—barely worth mentioning."
His words slurred slightly with contentment, and I felt his small body go limp against me, already drowsy from overindulgence.
