Sometimes, magic in the forest meets magic underground.

Those that flitter and shine like glitter-encrusted fey folk, realize that they are tired of the same old Satyrday night specials and start looking around for real men. Eventually, these curious pixie's happen to look downward. There, their wide, shimmering eyes take in broad shoulders, gruff dispositions and an unshakeable work ethic.

What follows are the usual Pixie flirts; fluttering by pantsless, love potions that dissolve to nothing in bitter Dwarven ale, and magical pranks that bounce off scowling, bearded hides.

Still, sooner or later, even the most dour soul is won over. The stoic brothers learn a thing or two about soft skin and squealing voices lifted up in delight. The flighty fey discover just how much fun a well harnessed, near limitless stamina can really be.

The end result? The Dwixie! The wings are mostly for show as the gravity beloved being can't quite get off the ground. His beard sparkles like twisted knots of silver, and he finds that absolutely NOBODY makes tights in his size. On the other hand, the Dwixie's magical wand/axe, or waxe more than makes up for it.

You have never been pixie cursed until you've been cursed with a severed limb.

__________________________________

Yes, I know. The right arm is all F'd up.

 foxytangerine and I were discussing the various ways one might get glitter scattered about one's naughtier bits. One thing led to another and viola, the Dwixie was born. This quickie doodle got enough of a chuckle out of her that she demanded I post it.

So, I'm posting it.

Consider it scrapped until I can remember how to paint again.