firebuilding

Updated: May 8, 2025

Things like that are apt to slip when one's mother is away. So her little pigtails were no longer smooth and glossy, but frowsy and loose, and the rest of her hair was ruffled until it looked something like the Bird Fairies' soft plumage. Eric's head, too, was shaggier than ever, and a smudge from firebuilding had darkened one of his cheeks since the morning before.

Ethel Cook Eliot - The Little House in the Fairy Wood