Thistlewind sat silently, stealthily, an arrow with a leather pouch tip nocked on her bowstring. Her target stood beneath her at a bar, pinching and groping barmaids as they passed by. He showed some nerve, she thought, bothering her workers in her bar. Well, he would learn. His macho ways would soon be his undoing. He smacked another barmaid's ass and leered, knowing the poor girl couldn't protest lest she risk her job for offending customers. Thistlewind had no such worries however, after all, the man would never know what hit him. She drew the bow taut, every muscle in her tiny form quivering, tracking her target. She could not afford to miss this shot, this was the only arrow she had with Switcheroo Silt dust, and the stuff was very difficult to come by. Then the moment came, as he stretched to pinch another ass, and Thistlewind loosed her shaft. The arrow flew true, and struck the man's head with a tiny bump, scattering its payload of infinitely fine dust over the man's head. Suddenly the man shrank. His waist slimmed, hips widened, chest protruded... In a moment, fairy justice was served, the man was now a maid himself.