Vampire. Dangerous. Unknowable. Seriously Creepy. This One's

People Forgot; It Was In The Nature Of People To Forget, To Blur Boundaries, To Retell Stories To Come Out The Way They Wanted Them To Come Out, To Remember Things As How They Ought To Be Instead Of How They Were.

Cats Were Often Familiars To Workers Of Magic Because To Anyone Used To Wrestling With Self-willed, Wayward, Devious Magic--which Was What All Magic Was--it Was Rather Soothing To Have All The Same Qualities Wrapped Up In A Small, Furry, Generally Attractive Bundle That...might, If It Were In A Good Mood, Sit On Your Knee And Purr. Magic Never Sat On Anybody's Knee And Purred.

What I Write, If You Have To Label It, Is Crossover, And I Think That Much Of The Stuff That Is Called Children's Or Ya Is In Fact Crossover And Is Equally Valid For Anyone Who Likes To Read Fantasy.

...and Again She Wished For Sherwood, And The Dappled Roof Of Leaves That Never Weighed Upon Her. She Pulled Her Scarf Closer Around Her And Thought, I Would Rather Live In A Hut In The Woods; A Hut Like The One Of My First Memories, With A Clean-swept Dirt Floor, And A Brown-eyed Boy Watching Me From Behind His Mother's Skirts As I Watched Him From Behind Mine.

Perhaps It Is A Human Thing, To Look Upon Such Beauty And Fail To Encompass It.