"Of the mortals that enter Faerie, some never return." The storyteller began his tale in low tones. "Those that do often come back... changed. Fae-touched. Worst are those whose hearts turn black, now bitter, savage, and cruel. What darkness burrows beneath their skin, what horrors could twist them so?"

Nearby, a voice brittle as ice replied. "Oh, I know all too well." Her grin was the languid smile of a hunting cat, her eyes dark and hollow. "There is but one way to survive the darkest parts of Faerie. If you will not be prey, you become a huntress. Only those bathed in blood live long enough to return to the mortal realm, those willing to embrace the beast that now inhabits their skin."

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