You whose eyes linger here, take heed,

Word has been traveling among my kind, and I have heard that many of you still speak of the last time my circle lit the dark, the cakes, the Wine, the music and dancing that outlasted the fire. It brings me great joy to know your hearts were so touched.

My court gathers again this year – before the moon will turn her face again - when Saturn's day gives way to dusk, once your business with court Is done and your knights have all been raised.

But hear this well: the wars of man have worn thin what little patience I keep for them. Let mankind keep its battlefield. I will keep my wood. This season, my court is closed to humankind and all those that do battle with them. No exception, no pleading, no coin bright enough to unmake my mind.

For those who mean to join me, prepare for a night of festivities: polish your antlers or ivory, clean and smooth your fur, preen until your feathers shine in the night, shed old scales, but Let none of my friends in the forest or jungle be shamed for who they are.

Bring your pups and cubs if you wish, but know I do not Deal in coin or trinket with those too young to Strike their own bargains. From them I ask nothing, and I will hear no argument otherwise.

The price of welcome for the rest of you Has not changed. One golden coin, or a trinket I judge worthy, paid freely at my threshold, as it was before.

Wine and spirits will flow once Again. My cakes will be given freely, and may be eaten without fear. I give my word that no debt shall be owed for what Passes your lips, for this one night each year.

Follow the sound of my subjects' voices when court has ended and the last knight has knelt. Let your feet carry you where your ears lead.

Until the fire is lit, keep your counsel. You may remEmber the way back, and for those who don't, there is always a first time to learn it.

— The Lady Beyond the Hedge.

P.S. To you who lingered where the darkness met the light, and never stepped fully into my court: Come closer this time. I have not forgotten the shape of your shadow in the trees or the ice you put in my blood.