Willow was the gentlest fairy in the Enchanted Glen. Her wings shimmered like dew, and her touch was lighter than the wind. When the forest was restless—leaves tangled, flowers closed, or streams muddied—Willow would fly quietly, stroking petals and smoothing ripples. One day, a cold mist crept through the glen, chilling the animals and wilting the flowers. Willow fluttered from blossom to blossom, her fingertips leaving sparkling trails. With each caress, the flowers unfurled, colors brightening as if touched by sunlight. She tickled the noses of sleepy dormice, who woke with happy giggles, and brushed the branches of ancient oaks, who sighed in relief. When the mist thickened and shadows grew, Willow gathered the animals close and caressed their fur, wings, or shells. A warm golden glow spread from her hands, driving away the chill. By morning, the glen sparkled with dew and every creature sang. Even the grumpy old badger cracked a smile. The Enchanted Glen was safe and joyful, all because of Willow’s fairy caress—a gentle touch that could soothe any trouble and awaken the wonder in every heart.