At Greenwood's Edge

Prologue

The girl watched with fascination the silverlee that danced at the treeline. Little fox-like creatures with silky fur that glimmered as if wet with starlight. In trios they came and went, when the night sky was at its darkest. Orella had seen them from her bedroom twice before, though she'd never dared speak of it.

It felt like violating the privacy of nature, watching them prance between the pines. They made no sound, even as she stepped closer, standing now halfway through her mother's garden. She squinted, uncertain whether their paws more than gently brushed the grass.

"Do not fear nights when the sky rests emptily," a ghost of a legend whispered in her ear, "for that is when the silverlee keep the moon in their step." The silverlee. Star-sprites.

Indeed, their dance was beyond gravity's notice. One whipped its fluffy tail and pounced higher than a tree, and the others followed its leap. Orella gasped as they hung in the air for a time, then glided down, legs outstretched, like three perfect snowflakes. They did not land so much as briefly grace the ground with their weight before taking up into the air again, casting three little shadows reaching all the way to her distant feet.

Orella, as kindly as she could in her clumsy human body, crept to the wooden gate of the garden, pressing her small hand against the latch in wonder. She snapped her head back to her mother's cottage, at the door she'd barely managed to close without a creak minutes before. And hesitated. She was only to go into the meadow when her mother or sister was watching, and certainly not alone after nightfall. Not when she was supposed to have been asleep hours before.

...But oh, they were beautiful.

Orella quietly opened the gate and slipped barefoot into the soft grass.

Even as she drew closer, the silverlee danced. Twirling into the air, and gliding down before lifting off again. She watched in awe as one of them ran- no, it almost floated up a pine and disappeared into the rustling leaves, bursting out moments later in a dive, far quicker than she'd seen them move before. Still graceful, but a move of swift precision. Her eyes widened at the almost white trail of light that followed it in its descent, and the other two jumped to join it as it silently brushed against the grass.

A spring breeze blew against Orella's back, and the silverlee's snouts suddenly turned her way, six periwinkle eyes turned to observe her. She froze in her step, taking in a sharp breath as one of them tilted its head and sniffed in her direction.

Then it let out a curious little yip and started to prance her way. The others gracefully followed, sniffing at her. Orella didn't move an inch as the silverlee paused just a few paces in front of her, cocking their heads to the side, tails swaying. Another yipped at her.

Slowly, so slowly, she crouched down, and though the creatures whipped their tails, they didn't flee. "Hello," Orella whispered, a little offering.

One of them excitedly yipped back at her, and pranced closer until it was within arm's reach. Her breath caught. A star-sprite, right in front of her. No one would ever believe her. Even she could scarcely trust her senses.

Traitorously, her hand reached out, pausing just a bit in front of its face. After a moment, as if granting permission, it pressed its nose into her hand, sniffing. The others pranced to their companion's side, one of them coming so close as to sniff at Orella's shoulder. She let out an astonished giggle, and the silverlee yipped in return before gracefully hopping atop her curved back. Her jaw fell slack.

Though she felt the paws through her blouse, there was no pressure. As if it were weightless. She laughed as it sniffed at the back of her neck, adjusting its position to dig its nose in her hair. The others, encouraged, licked at her hands, and in instinct she brushed her fingers through their fur, nearly gasping at how soft it was. She'd never felt such pelts.