Spirits

“And thus the Council of Spirits convened by the Shore, to witness the new accord between It That Hungers and animal-kind. And thus was it agreed, that animals and It That Hungers alike would work together to find ways to change Its nature. That It That Hungers would be honoured by the animals, and that It would withdraw beneath the lake until such a time that It could safely re-emerge, without being compelled to hunt. And thus do we keep the Hungry One in our thoughts, knowing that It can change. Our belief has worked wonders before. Our kindness allowed Granny Moth-Spider to change her nature, and become truly kind in turn. Our stories gave strength to the Stillmirror. Our belief cracked the prison of the White Raccoon. We honour It That Hungers, for the creature we know It will become. We work towards Its transformation. We know It will reciprocate, as we maintain our end of the deal.” - From the Chant of the Hungry One, frequently recited by the shore.

“The recent meeting chaired by the Rat King of the Underground and the White Raccoon has proven a promising first step towards preventing the replication of human errors. This reporter was in attendance, and, while diplomatic tensions over the Underground's secrecy around fire have not dissipated altogether, most present seem confident that there is a shared agenda in place. The Raccoon has laid out quite clearly many of the factors that we should be wary of, and Writer-Downers from the Underground were present to record them. All seemed to acknowledge not only the dangers inherent in late-stage human technological capacity, but the more immediate threat of Winter returning to its past aggression if advances in that direction were made.” - From a report by Ida.

“A story? Me? Well, if you insist… I've heard a lot of them, all these years the Carnival's been here. Reflecting something back in thanks is the least I can do. You've brought motion and beauty to this place. You've given me Granny's company. I'm eternally grateful. Ok, here goes. A story from the time of the humans…” - The Place of Perfect Stillness.

Forest and lake, wrapped close together. Freedom whistling in the wind. Lanterns flickering, without fire's risk. The scratchy sound of an old record player. A Mask, smiling. A Raccoon, laughing like the old trickster they are. Community, long dreamed of. Perfect stillness, even in the thickest crowd. Perfect peace.