On his brow a leaf of oaken, Cangeling child shall be his fate. Understanding words strange spoken, Chased by anger, fear, and hate.

I'm frightened of nothing anymore," answered Fell simply, "except lies. For they're the real killers.

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.

Fear is an instinct, like hunger or anger. We need it to help us survive, and it is nothing to be ashamed of. It lets us know whether we should fight or flee.

Mamma," whispered Rannoch as he nestled by her side, "what is man?" Bracken looked into her calf's eyes. "Man? Man is something you must always fear." "But why must I fear him?" asked Rannoch. "Because, my little one...man is cruel and cold. He eats up everything he touches. He enslaves Lera and breaks the laws of the forest. Because, Rannoch, he is the only creature that hunts without need.

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

You are not evil, Fell. You have just been robbed of love. Of light.