Sunset, days after the vanishing of the first group, the Carnival goes oddly still. The rides don't stop, the crowd keeps moving, but in spite of all the noise and motion there's a frozen feeling in the air, like everything in motion is just a collection of confetti in a shaken snow globe ( Read more... )

In the dusky predawn, the Carnival changes. The rides speed up. The music turns frantic, and the dancers match the pace. Fairies, earlier drifting and enjoying the sights, clear the rows between tents and stalls as a new crowd strides the carnival grounds ( Read more... )

Summer in the Wood has always belonged to the Fox, and the weather has taken a distinct turn in that direction now ( Read more... )