They look so charming, delicate and innocent; pretty little fairy folk with butterfly wings, flitting about in the moonlit woods, playful, laughter like tinkling bells.
But it’s a lie, part illusion and part deception, a disguise for something dark, ancient and primal. Not entirely evil, just other; creatures from the oldest tales and nightmares, warped and wizened, their nature and motives beyond human comprehension.
Most of all, they’re dangerous. They take what they want, they can neither be reasoned with nor appealed to, and they must never be crossed. All of time is their playground, there is nowhere to hide.