Tadhg laughs softly; it looks as though he's met his match in inquisitiveness. "What are the fae? Now that's quite the question." Leaning back against a log behind him, he stretches his legs to one side of the fire. "My people take a myriad of forms, beings of the earth and air, of fire and water. Some say we came into the world before humans, while others believe that the mortals came first, and that the first fae took shape from their dreams and nightmares. Plenty of debate, but no certainty."

The flames' flicker reflects in the dark depths of Tadhg's eyes. "As for how we live, there are as many ways as there are fairies. Most left the mortal world a long age ago, but a handful remain, moving softly among humans who no longer know what we are or believe in what we can do."

With a ferret-sized huff, Dána scrambles down to the ground and starts casting about for discarded rabbit bones. The púca smiles at his little friend's single-mindedness and continues. "Me, I walk in both the daylight world and Faerie, making my living largely through my art. I craft in paint and canvas, metal and gems ... and magic."
For a moment, his expression turns somber. "At least that's how I lived back home."