Chapter 12 - Dancing in the dark

If there is one thing to understand, it is that the folk that wander the Great Forest are far different from the angels. Although they live under our rules, they are much less bound by order, and incredibly unpredictable. Past our borders it's a wild land: of spirits and pixies and horned men who wander with entrancing songs on their lips; of women who prowl with the legs of a lion and elvish creatures who play cruel tricks on those who let themselves be fooled by their shallow beauty. Where vampires drink and kiss and kill, where blood is spilt almost as often as wine, and where great revels are held by the Faey folk around heaving bonfires of succulent meat and bone under the light of the moon. It is a place of careless magic, where anything and anyone was fair game, and where dancing late into the night with a random stranger was the least peculiar thing.