I took my dog for a walk on a cold but sunny morning. We left the paved trail to follow alongside a creek bed. I started down a slope, tripped, and fell, discomfiting my knees. With my dog as support, I pulled myself up. Instead of going back up the slope I limped along a dry watercourse, but became snagged in a thicket of long black briars. I recognized my mistake then: I had failed to offer respect, and had fallen into Fae. I put my hand to my heart and begged pardon.
My dog led me through a mossy clearing and to a rock wall, where I found a wee treasure chest. I mistrusted its nature, but I opened it, and found it wet and filled with mud inside. The bottle of confetti intimated that I had cause to celebrate, so I drained the water from the chest and put it in my pocket. A broad-winged hawk circled over me as I tramped along the wall to the road, and an owl hooted, pulling me back from the borderlands.
I brought the treasure chest home to examine free of glamour.
A bottle of confetti
Three festive stickers
A dripping two-dollar bill
A mud-soaked Note with clues to greater treasure