"Ooogh..."
Miffie moaned, adjusting her daisy-petal skirt. She hadn't meant to eat the whole thing, she really hadn't, but it had just been so good! Now she'd stuffed herself with what would have been, to a human, the equivalent of a large birthday cake. Her stomach was packed tight, and she was beginning to feel queasy.
Picking up the little pixie, Kara looked at her with compassion, but with an amused twinkle in her eye as well. "Oh, Miffie, I told you! Now, this is why I don't think you're ready to learn conjuration magic -- not until you learn a little more self-control! If I taught you that spell now, you'd be as round as a ball within a fortnight."
"I have self-control," Miffie hiccupped sullenly. "It's just... chocolate."
"I suppose I should have made it smaller, at that," Kara mused. "But really! You've got to try to develop as least a little discipline."
She knelt down and tucked the suffering girl into her tiny bed.
"Mother! I'm not a baby, you don't need to put me to bed!"
"I suppose you don't want any sweet tea to sooth your stomach, either?"
"N-- well, as long as you're making it, I suppose."
Miffie lay in the cool darkness, listening to her mother bustling around the kitchen. Kara always preferred to make tea the old-fashioned way, rather than just snapping it into existence, although she did cheat a bit on the fire "to save on fuel". How am I supposed to practice my self-control if I never get a chance to try it? She hardly ever got to eat her fill of sweets, so of course on those few occasions when she got the chance, she was going to do it! It didn't mean she couldn't control herself!
I'll prove it to her, she decided. I will master that conjuration spell, and then I won't eat any of the cupcakes! Flat on her back and crammed to the gills, it was quite easy for Miffie to picture herself resisting their sugary charms.
-----
The next day, while Kara was busy with the day-to-day errands of a mage, Miffie decided to make her move.
She could already do some fairly simple conjurations -- the basic elements, plus paper towels, which were always handy to have on hand -- and making a cupcake shouldn't be too much harder. It was the same principle, after all. And if something goes wrong, she reasoned, I'll just clean it up before she gets back.
She pictured a cupcake in her mind -- a mini-cupcake, sized a little more appropriately for her, although still quite large to a pixie -- and held the image. It was sweet and fluffy and oozing with pink frosting, and (now that she wasn't feeling so full anymore), it was quite mouthwatering. She let the magic well up inside of her, fairly crackling with energy -- more -- more, and then --
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