Image Description.
A whimsical, pastel-coloured woodland scene shows six anthropomorphic fairycakes gathered outside a cupcake-shaped house with a large swirl of frosting for a roof. A wooden sign reads “Welcome to Fluffwood Hollow,” and a small curved wafer bridge crosses a golden syrup stream in the foreground.
Each fairycake character has distinct sponge colouring, frosting details, and delicate wings:
One vanilla cake with lemon wings floats gracefully in the air (likely Miss Buttercup Bloom).
A sticky toffee cake with caramel colouring zips across from the right, trailing playful energy (Rolo Ripple).
Two cherry-coloured fairycakes stand on the ground smiling warmly — one likely to be Cherry Tumble.
A fairycake with a nutty, oat-topped sponge hovers low, holding a honey jar and looking slightly grumpy (Branberry Crumbletop).
A zesty orange cake with candied peel wings (Clementine Cocoa) flies toward the viewer with a joyful expression.
A glowing orange jellybee buzzes nearby, adding a touch of sparkle. In the background, pastel towers, cupcake trees, and spongey houses peek through a sugar-mist forest, suggesting a magical village beyond.
The overall tone is soft, magical, and inviting — a perfect representation of the gentle, sweet world of Fluffwood Hollow.
Chapter Five – Branberry Crumbletop And The Jellybee Hive
Branberry Crumbletop liked his mornings quiet.
A warm mug of cinnamon tea. A slice of toast with just the right amount of honey. And absolutely no interruptions.
Which is why, on this particular morning, the sound of frantic buzzing outside his Scone-Stone Cottage was most unwelcome.
He opened the door, mug in hand, to find a cloud of jellybees hovering in his garden. Not their usual lazy wobble — this was hurried, jerky, worried movement. Their normally golden jelly centres flickered in shades of pale amber.
“What’s all this about, then?” Branberry muttered.
One jellybee — slightly larger than the rest, with a faint sparkle to its jelly — broke away from the swarm and zipped right up to his nose. It wobbled twice, darted toward the path, then zipped back to stare at him.
“Oh, you want me to follow, is that it?” he grumbled. “Can’t even finish my tea…”
Still, he set the mug down, stretched his oat-parchment wings, and took off after the glowing guide.
The jellybee led him past the jellybean orchard, across the wafer bridge, and into the deeper spongewoods where the air smelled faintly of mint. Soon, Branberry could hear the rest of the swarm again — only now, the sound was mixed with a strange, soft crackling.
They came to a clearing where a large jellybee hive clung to the side of a sugarbark tree. The golden sugarcomb was split in places, oozing jelly slowly onto the grass below. A frost-like sheen clung to the edges of the hive.
Branberry frowned. “This isn’t right…”
He gently ran a hand over the surface — cool to the touch. Too cool for this time of year.
The larger jellybee wobbled anxiously beside him, then zipped into the hive. Branberry could see smaller bees inside, sluggish and shivering.
“Well then,” he sighed. “Looks like I’m on tea duty — for jelly.”
Back at his cottage, Branberry returned with a small pot of warmed blossom syrup. Carefully, he poured it into the open cells, the scent filling the air with gentle sweetness. The bees perked up almost instantly, wings fluttering more steadily.
“That’s better,” he said softly. “Now keep warm, you lot.”
The larger jellybee wobbled once in thanks, its jelly centre glowing brighter again, before darting away toward the sky.
Branberry stood for a moment, brushing a few sugar crystals from his wings.
“Well,” he muttered to himself, “guess there are worse ways to spend a morning.”
He picked up his honey jar from the cottage windowsill and gave it a thoughtful glance.
“Sharing’s alright now and then, I suppose.”
Blind Man Makes 