Story Part 2!

Claire was immediately snapped awake by the noise. She froze, perched on the boulder, listening for more noises. After a few moments passed in silence, she slid to the ground as quietly as she could and swung her satchel over her shoulder. She retrieved her book from where at had slipped out of her grasp and tucked it back into the bag. Checking to make sure she had gathered everything, she cautiously headed in the direction that the noise had come from.

Picking her way carefully through the undergrowth, Claire soon found the source of the noise. There, straight ahead of her, was a boulder, at least twice the size of the one she'd just been sitting on. This one, however, was split in two. She could tell from the way the colour and texture of the sides that had split were different from the outer surfaces that it must have just happened.

Well, that wasn't normal. Enormous boulders didn't just split in half of their own accord. She glanced around the area, searching for a cause, but didn't see anything out of the ordinary. She approached the boulder to examine it more closely. It was a clean break, there were no other fragments of the boulder lying on the ground nearby. She reached out a hand to touch the broken surface. It was rough, and warm to the touch, as though it had soaked in so much warmth that the energy caused it to break. Surely that didn't happen, did it?

No sooner had she touched the boulder than there was a terrible shriek from behind her. "What are you doing? You've ruined it, you've ruined everything!" someone wailed.

Claire stood up, startled, and whirled around to face her scolder. She didn't see anyone, but then she noticed something hurrying toward her through the underbrush. For a moment she thought it was some sort of animal, maybe a rabbit or a porcupine, but when it stopped in front of her she realized it was a very small person. He  came no higher than her knees, and was dressed in ratty clothes that looked like they were made from a burlap sack. His scraggly black beard hung almost to the ground, and perched on top of his head was the most ornate and ridiculous purple hat Claire had ever seen.

She stared at him in shock, opening and closing her mouth a few times as he continued to harangue her about whatever it was that she'd ruined, before finally managing to interrupt. "I'm sorry, but who are you? And--what are you?"

The little fellow broke off his tirade, cleared his throat, and primly announced "I am Ignatius Theodore Montgomery the Third, Grand Chief Warlock of the Turnip Clan."

"...Turnip Clan?"

"The most ancient and noble clan of dwarves these parts have ever seen."

"Dwarves. As in 'Snow White and the Seven'?"

"Yes, I suppose that's how you humans think of it. You foolish creatures are always getting things like that mixed up. Not to mention traipsing through the woods ruining perfectly good spells!"