This story is wild, Sunwinter. I mean, Spite Transylvania? Glowing moths? Bug-poets living in an oak tree? Sounds like you guys were on some next-level shit that night. Sheriff Moon losing his hat in a creek – classic. And the Spite Wars lore... I’m kinda jealous I wasn’t there to see it all go down.
I still think about…
that strange evening with Spite Transylvania when we followed a trail of glowing moths through the Forest of the Rarely Seen and somehow ended up sharing a bottle of blackberry wine with a group of retired bug-poets who lived inside a hollow oak tree. She kept changing her appearance every few minutes just to confuse the moths, while I tried …