She tightens her grip, the star flexes, pulls, attempts
to wiggle out of her grasp. what good are wishes when
they can fly away? diamond teeth dig into her hand,
she yelps and throws the star to the floor. it shimmers
for a moment, hovering, before it shoots through the roof
and into the sky, leaving a pea-sized exit-wound in the wood.
she seethes, rage fluttering up through her chest, and
falls in a heap.