Blackfeather Woods she is the fairies' midwife, and she comes

There is something about the way he looks at her that intrigues Megara--like he knows her. This is reason enough to continue the conversation, even if the place didn't have such a delightfully dark name. Blackfeather Woods, she repeats, nodding slowly, as if to herself. I will remember it. Not easy to forget such woods as these.

She turns her attention to him, now--the brawny boy with the silver mane. She lets her indigo gaze linger over each and every curve of his body, as though making love to him with her eyes. Honestly, she is simply curious, and her curiosity often manifests itself in seduction. It has gotten her into trouble more than a few times. . .but isn't that all part of the fun?

Your name? Megara inquires, her voice clinical. If he is smart as he is strong, he will give her a false one.