The feeling was new, new and different. Suddenly, the forest seemed strange. She wasn't sure what to do. He was there now, in the corner of her eye, glimmering at the edges of her sight and she was afraid when he stepped into her full vision because he was beautiful and terrible and somehow she recognized him and didn't all at the same time. But something in that beauty and familiarity began to draw her towards him with soft whispers and grasping hands.
He said nothing, and neither did she. But he eyed her with a strange curiosity in his shimmering eyes before offering her his hand. She took it, hesitantly, and fell into his stately step as they glided along invisible pathways.
She didn't know when they reached the circle. Faeries stepped aside like hushed whispers, clearing a space circled by smooth white stones. He pulled her to him swiftly, expression unreadable, and all was silent. A single nightingale pierced the silence. He began to move, carefully and effortlessly leading her through delicate steps. They danced through the night, not missing a single step.
But when dawn broke, she awoke in a circle of smooth white stones, alone.
