"What do you mean I have to kiss you?" the little girl asked of the frog she held in her hand. The frog, for its part, stared blankly ahead.
"Well, if you insist!" the girl puckered up and gave the frog the tiniest peck. A moment passed and nothing happened. The girl placed the frog on the ground and it hopped into the underbrush, certainly as confused as a frog can be.
The girl left as well, going to find her favorite spot - a little stump in a small grove where she could stoke her imagination. Normally it was her castle or tower or (on one occasion) a giant mushroom complete with talking caterpillar. This time, however, it was her place to mourn.
"I'll never find a prince!" she cried out in frustration.
"Hello! Who's there!?" a voice shot out from under a particularly thick bit of foliage. The little girl was similarly startled as a little person bedecked in robes and jewels picked his way out of a sleeping bag.
"Are you one of the seven dwarves?" she couldn't help herself from asking. The man rolled his eyes but, sensing no malice, answered her question.
"No, I'm a fortune teller," he said.
"How wonderful!" She paused for a moment to take in this new information. "Could you tell me my fortune?"
"Could you bring me food and water for two weeks?"
"I can! I can!"
"Then I foretell a good friendship. Just don't tell anyone - and I mean anyone - that I'm here."
"Why's that?" A little pout crept into the question as the girl was disappointed she couldn't show off her new magical friend.
"Well, you see, this little medium's at large."