I am powerful, more powerful than you can possibly imagine but I am also weak. I am weak with my love of my wood and weak with my duty to my people. I would do anything to protect both to the exclusion of all else.
I use the bow, magic, and the dagger as my weapons of choice. I travel by air and by land. I speak many tongues and call few friend. But those who Hunt beside me and against me are my honored allies. They have proven their honor and their prowess upon my battlefield and continue as any great warrior.
So join my Hunt and watch my powers soar above the woods and blot out the moon in their light. For I will be the salvation of my people or I will cease to exist. There is no other alternative.
But there is also a soft side to me. I enjoy reading, dancing, and just relaxing. As I do this in the privacy of my glade lucky would be the traveller to see me but you are a friend. For you I will not stand upon ceremony.
Come, sit down upon the grass. There is faerie wine in the goblets and have some berries. Meet my friends and, by all means, become comfortable and familiar with my glade. It is an image of the finest of faerie handiwork and reflects the soul of the one who lives within it.
