You’re inside the flower. You try to move around, but you’re tightly crammed inside of it. The flower seemed to respond to your movements and it opened up. You look around to see the same flowery meadow as before, but the flower, once no bigger than the others, seems to have grown.
Peeking over the side, you find that the flower has grown much bigger than you thought. It must have been as big as a sunflower by now.
You lean even further over, but you slip off. You start to fall, but you don’t even reach the blossoms of the regular flowers before a new instinct kicks in and you freeze in midair. Something is vibrating fast behind you, making a sound like a cross between a buzzing bee and the ringing of tiny bells. What’s more you realize that the source of the sound is being caused by something attached to your back. There’s no doubt about it; you’ve grown wings.
You slowly descend to the ground and look behind your back. Your wings were beautiful, like large, thin sheets of solid glitter pressed into the shape of cicada wings. After a solid minute of admiration, you start to look around. Comparing yourself with the height of the flowers, and remembering how big you were compared to them before, you deduce that you were now somewhere between 6 and 10 inches tall. You fly up high into the air, much higher than even the flower that changed you. As you scan the horizon, you see a small lake, beyond which lies a large forest. You sense something within the forest, a strange, yet familiar energy that resonates within you. There are fairies within those trees. You take off as fast as you can toward the forest, toward the fairies, toward your new kinfolk.