In the distance a crow caws. Etain stops to listen. It could be watching her, calling to something unholy and unseen, preparing to welcome in something else along with the end of the day. When it doesn`t call a second or third time Etain decides it should be safe enough to ignore and keeps going.

　　 She knows she should find shelter, and soon. Sunset is a transient time, when it becomes dangerously easy to wander into places humans ought not to be. There are more important things to keeping safe though. Bells and bread, St. John`s wort and rowen, they keep all but the most determined neighbors away, and Etain keeps a crucifix or two within easy reach just in case.

　　 A voice calls out ahead of her. Seemingly a young man and his brother are playing in the path. She is too far away to tell if they are real people. They seem to be, ten fingers, bright eyes, and all of that, but there is no way to tell for sure. If they are people that is bad news. The attention Etain draws from the neighbors is often unwelcome. If they aren`t that would be worse.

　　 Etain decides to walk past them, react with politeness and civility, careful to never offend, should they speak to her, but to not engage them on purpose.

　　 She keeps to the middle of the path, to not get dragged off to either side, grasping at the cross around her neck, the bells on her bag, anything to protect herself.

　　 She manages to walk past them without incident. They do seem to be real people, they don`t try to tempt her toward anything. She tries very hard to not look back. She tells herself that it won`t matter no matter what she sees.

　　 The young man is distracted from her by a beautiful black horse. It stands perfectly docile in the center of the road, almost beckoning, the boys are transfixed. He lifts his hand to pet the beast.

　　 "Stop!" The cry rises from her throat before she even realizes it.

　　 The boy drops his hand and turns to her. "Ma`am, are you alright?"

　　 She swallows, gathering her courage. "Leave them alone, please." Sometimes asking politely helps. She makes a false start at the beast trying to scare it. Neither garners any reaction.

　　 The young man turns his head curiously. Etain swears she can hear him muttering "... a bit touched" to his brother. He lifts his hand suspiciously to the horse. Etain barely surprises a gasp when he pulls his hand back again.

　　 It didn`t trap him, it was just a horse.

　　 She keeps walking. It is getting later, almost sunset. The further she goes the more signs of civilization she sees. Woods make way to more cultivated farmland, and the occasional house or barn is visible.

　　 She chooses one to approach. It looks safe, a garden neither suspiciously bountiful or barren, an iron horseshoe garding the top of the door.

　　 She knocks on the door and recites a practiced speech to the man who answers, "I am a humble traveler, I hail from far away, in the spirit of hospitality would you allow me to spend just one night here."

　　 He answers with all the expected warmth of a natural host, welcoming her in, offering a drink, and making some introductions. His wife and baby daughter were inside.

　　 Upon entering she immediately doubles back, crossing the threshold of the door again, just to make sure she still can. Only then does she enter.

　　 She is perfectly practiced in manners, she needs to be, her carefully phrased "you may call me Etain," "please, no drink, thank you though," and "why yes, I would love to tell a story," have saved her life many times before.

　　 And of course they ask for a story, everyone does be they human or neighbor.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author`s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

　　 She doesn`t spend much time deliberating before deciding which one to tell.

　　********

　　 Once there was a young man and his younger brother playing outside by the side of the ocean.

　　 Out of the waves came a black horse, it was the most beautiful creature either of the boys had ever laid their eyes upon.

　　 The young man raised his hand to stroke the beautiful creature. He laughed when his hand stuck fast. Gently tugging in an effort to free himself. Even while trapped he could not find it in himself to be angry at the creature.

　　 His brother reached up to help him, and was also stuck fast.

　　 As the horse started moving the young man finally realized the danger they were in. The beast rode fast and the ocean was approaching.

　　 He turned to his young brother, stuck alongside him, and considered what to do.

　　He did not want to die, he did not want his brother to die, he knew they were running out of time. With his one free hand he pulled out his dagger, kept in his belt in case of bandits. He considered closing his eyes, but decided the risk was not worth it. He took off the stuck hand of his young brother.

　　Before he could turn the knife on himself he found himself underwater. The beast, a kelpie, one of the fey, had dragged him into the ocean.

　　The boy made it home safely before the blood loss could pull him under.

　　The young man was never seen again.

　　********

　　The man and his wife looked disappointed. They wanted her story, or a hero story. They muttered the requisite praises before falling silent.

　　 "I never cared for the ocean, too many frightening creatures wash up, it seems like a likely place for the good folk to hide" the man says, trying to avoid the quiet.

　　 Etain barely contains a scoff, "the kelpie are hardly the most dangerous of the folk that live in the ocean."

　　 That of course results in more polite questions. .

　　********

　　 For the warm summer months, the great mither of the sea keeps the nuckelavee contained beneath the waves. During the dark and cold winter nothing can stop it.

　　 Some people say it looks like a giant man atop a horse, his muscles and blood visible, an imposing figure. Most of those unlucky to have actually laid eyes upon the beast disagree. When you look at it the only thing your mind is capable of comprehending is its breath.

　　 It breathes out great clouds of black smoke. The smoke kills crops, livestock, infants, anything really that is unlucky enough to come across it. Some say it acts out of malice, choosing its victims for some reason. I disagree, it is just walking, and people are like rats happening to get trampled.

　　 Some think that It can be contained by freshwater, it is true it prefers not to cross rivers, but if it is determined it will. The only thing that can properly contain him is the mither of the sea, and only during the summer months.

　　********

　　 The man and his wife are quick to retire after that, no doubt hoping to keep her from telling another story.

　　 They leave their baby woefully unprotected, not even some iron nails or a cross above its bed to protect it. Etain opts not to comment on it, she disturbed the poor family enough.

　　 Etain wakes with a start in the middle of the night. A strange laughter can be heard. Strange people are walking around the house. The neighbors found their way in.

　　 They are uncanny to look at, older than any human could be, youthful eternal. They barely come up to Etain`s knees but she knows better than to underestimate them.

　　 "Please leave the baby alone." Sometimes if you are polite they listen. They did not this time. She walks towards the sleeping child intending to offer it some token of protection, not her rowen or St. John`s wort certainly, but her bells maybe she could part with, They get to her before Etain can.

　　Etain considers waking the man and his wife, but it seems pointless. The baby giggles happily reaching out to the good neighbor above her, it is already lost.

　　Etain cannot bring herself to stay in the house, she knows somehow that the parents will blame her when they wake.

　　It is dark out, and beautiful. The neighbors are all awake. They dance, it looks like fun. Vibrant music filling the air. Great beautiful feasts line the side of the path, she knows better than to let them tempt her. Staring too long reveals them as what they are, dust, or worse.

　　The good neighbors mostly leave her alone though. When they do notice her she responds with her perfectly practiced "you may call me Etain," "please, no drink, thank you though," and "why yes, I would love to tell a story," and it is enough to keep her safe.

　　The further she walks the more she begins to smell salt in the distance

　　She can`t help but feel that speaking too loudly and boldly earlier signed her fate. She knows there is no avoiding fate so she walks on boldly.

　　The sound of the ocean is almost calming, and Etain can just barely see the black cloud concealing something great and powerful in the distance.