Slender Silver Birch whispered secrets to a flock of noisy sparrows, arrowing like darts into the depths of ancient twisted limbs; the last leaves clinging stubbornly, shaken loose circling, drifting down to join their sibling on the earth to begin the journey to mulch-hood. It was cold but the sounds of nature were undiminished; a ravens caw, a kookaburras contagious chuckle and the sweet, melodic call of a thrush echoed across the garden to the silent group sitting beneath the canopy of branches, soaking up the suns last warmth before winters final grip held the earth in stasis. Flora, Samantha, Maeve and the group who had assembled around them were tired and confused, not knowing if the outcome of their ritual, woven with the intention to locate Sybille on Samhain eve had been successful and knowing that much rode on it. They had all witnessed things they could not put name to and so much more had to their frustration, been hidden from sight as they stood backs turned to the events unfolding in the circle. Who was the small creature, Maeve saw watching her with such cold intensity? Where did Bethan go in that brief moment she vanished? Who are the enigmatic Dark Fae, waiting in the wings for any of them to make just one small slip? dare you walk the between, in the places unseen will you dare to engage with your shade will you walk, will you stray senses lost on the way with the mists calling home will you wander alone dare you walk the between unafraid the story continues after the Samhain Rite