Council of the Fae

The stranger was mounted bareback, his face hooded against the night, his cloak dark green and billowing behind him. His hearing was sharp and his eyes watchful as he neared the lights in the distance. It felt like he was drenched to the bone and the Pixies had been nagging and messing with him all night, preventing much needed sleep. They came out of small hollows and under leaves just to tug on his hair and munch on his horse's behind, fueled by the torment. He had to swipe one off every few minutes when he felt a sharp pain but they were soon gone as the trees thinned out into an open road, now just puddles and mud. There was a crooked wooden sign reading: The Gruesome Sphinx.