The Last Fairy-Apple Tree Fairy Realm by Emily Rodda and Raoul Vitale "The fairy-apple trees," murmured Jessie's grandmother. The charm bracelet on her wrist jingled softly as she lifted her hand to touch the painting on the wall in front of her. She glanced at Jessie's curious face and smiled, her green eyes twinkling as they always did when she spoke about magic things. "I haven't told you about that part of the Realm, have I, Jessie?" she said. "About Hidden Valley, and the gnomes, and the fairy-apple trees?" Jessie stood in the pool of morning sunlight that streamed through the window of the spare bedroom at Blue Moon and watched her grandmother's slim fingers trace the outlines of the trees in the painting. "Fairy-apple trees!" she exclaimed. "Are they where fairy-apple jelly comes from?" Her mouth watered as she thought about fairy-apple jelly. It was one of her favorite things in all the world: a clear, sweet, golden pink jelly you spread on fresh bread. Granny had made fairy-apple jelly for as long as Jessie could remember. She made it from fruit she gathered from a neighbor's tree. And in winter, small, glistening jars of it were always lined up on a shelf in the Blue Moon pantry. Jessie's mother, Rosemary, always said that "fairy-apple" was just Granny's name for ordinary apple jelly. But Jessie could see that the apples on the trees in the painting weren't ordinary. They were very small and round, and a beautiful gold-red color. "I didn't know fairy-apples grew in the Realm too," she said. Granny smiled dreamily. "Oh, that's where all the fairy-apple trees grow," she said. "All but one." Jessie leaned closer to her so that she wouldn't miss a single word. She knew how lucky she was. No one else on earth had a grandmother like hers. Most days, life at Blue Moon was peaceful and ordinary. Jessie went to school, her mother went to work at the hospital, Granny cooked, gardened and shopped. Things were so peaceful and ordinary, in fact, that sometimes Jessie almost forgot that Blue Moon was a special place, and that Granny wasn't at all what she seemed. She was a fairly unusual sort of grandmother, anyway. She laughed a bit more than most. She sang strange-sounding songs. She liked to walk in the rain. She talked to birds and flowers, and to her big ginger cat, Flynn. She was so unusual that some people, like their next-door neighbors, the Bins family, thought she was crazy! Granny wasn't crazy, of course. But she was different from other people. And only Jessie knew just how different. ..... this is a story incipit i've found on the web and i think is cool for this image Antje and Bez Background and wing wowowo are amazing sweety all the rest is free stuff or rdna Pose Body language V ( very very cool by ilona) I hope you like it big kisses Orietta