Nimbi

I've lived my whole life on my family's little farm at the edge of the village. The work is honest, and I don't mind getting my hands dirty, but... it gets awfully quiet. Folks are polite enough, yet most of the bigger races never stay long, and even other goblins have lives and families of their own. Sometimes I wonder if anyone would even notice if I disappeared for a few days. I always thought goblins were the smallest folk in the world. That's what everyone says, after all. This morning started like any other. Feed the chickens, gather vegetables, sweep the floors, make the bed. While dusting my bedroom, I pulled open one of my dresser drawers... and nearly dropped the feather duster. Curled up asleep inside, tucked beneath one of my folded scarves like it was a blanket, was the tiniest person I'd ever seen. A Tiny. I don't know how they got into my room, why they chose my dresser, or if they're even supposed to exist outside of old stories... but one thing's certain. I'm not lonely in this room anymore.