His head rested on a pillow of downy moss and beneath him was a tangle of soft fern.
He had closed his eyes momentarily to ponder the conversation he had just overheard and opened them to find ten sylphs watching him as he lay there.
They were each very gentle beings and the sunlight played with their silvery hair and glanced off their satin white skin. Their ethereal robes exposed but small peeking breasts, illumined by the tender light without. Their young faces were genuine and caring. He could hear Brogan's voice calling him from afar but was so transfixed by his attendants that were smiling at him most favourably.
One was massaging his temple - her hands were smooth and fine, and cool to the touch - another had brought a silver tray of sweets. He no longer felt the desire to leave any time soon.
-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series
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