For her crimes, the Faerie Court confined her to the bole of a great tree for one hundred years. There she sat, small, and alone, and waited in the dark.
But a hundred years of solitude is a long time, and as she sat in her prison, she learned to embrace it. She listened to the wind in the branches. She learned the language of birds. She made her jail a home, although all that changed was her.
On the last day of her sentence, her enemies returned to find an angry dryad where they had left a broken faerie.