Yes,' growled Fell, 'for animals do not know what they do, but man has knowledge of his cruelty.

Not stories told by wolf or man to frighten children, of Wolfbane and of werewolves, of grasht and goblins and of silly vampires, fables to frighten cowards with the threat of evil and of sin. But the power that lives beyond those stories, and makes them strong indeed, that lives in nightmares and in sleep. That is ribbed into the very fabric of conscious being. The power of love and hate.

Stones are raw, they blunt my paw, but words will never hurt me.

But of all the animals, man holds the fate of the world in his hands.

And, Kar, love is not a commandment, it is a need, as real as eating.

Why does death engender fear? Because death meant change, a change greater then we have ever known, and because death was indeed a mirror that made us see ourselves as never before. A mirror that we should cover, as people in olden days covered mirrors when someone died, for fear of an evil. For with all our care and pain for those who had gone, it was ourselves too we felt the agony for. Perhaps ourselves above all.

Now go away, or I'll get my friends the Bats to bite you.