Just gonna start right off here:
Puck stumbled backwards.
She looked agast. "no! I won't hurt you!" she said in a voice that carried years of suffering and pain.
"uh…" was all he could say.
"please, don't leave." she pleaded, looking like the picture of pity.
Puck sighed, but gave in. he sat on a log that was still a little damp, but he laid down his green hoodie, which barely fit now that he had shot up (he had accepted his growth now, there was no way to doubt it, now that he was granny's height) on it, and he stayed fairly dry. The girl gently lowered herself on to the log. 'soo…what's your name?" Puck asked.
"Mary. And may I ask your's?" she asked politely.
"erm…Puck." he was unnerved by her voice of tinkling bells weaved in with agony of centuries of pain.
She smiled. "do you know my story?" she asked. "no, do you know mine?" he asked eagerly.
She giggled:
"if we shadows have offended,
Think but this and all is mended,
That you have but slumbered here,
While these visions did appear"
"I just love Shakespeare, don't you?" she said sweetly.
"yeah, he was a nice guy." Puck replied casually.
She smiled sourly "I bet you didn't know I was one of his creations" she replied off-handedly.
"what?" Puck was incredulous.
She nodded. " he wrote me, than decided me too scary, so he burned all the stories. he had written about me." she replied simply.
"bu-bu-burned you?" Puck sputtered, "but-but-but…fear is no reason to burn someone!" he shouted, on his feet now.
"quiet down!" she whispered, "don't call attention to me!" she patted the log next to her.
Puck was puzzled, but sat down next to her again. "what was your story?" he asked, curios.
"I can't tell you; that's how I was written." she replied.
Puck was getting more confused by the minute, and the red eyes weren't helping.
"dear, where are you?" A ghostly voice called out from the woods.
"oh, my! I must go!" she exclaimed. "I had a marvelous time, could you meet me here again tomorrow?" she asked.
"yeah, I would love that." Puck replied.
She blew him a kiss goodbye before backing into a tree, and sliding through the surface.
Her eyes left bright red burning coals in the wood.