The moon sang to the ocean. She stood there, on the beach, shouting back her symphony to the world. Screaming and crying and reaching as far as she could go. She answered the moon that night, spoke to...

The maiden is supposed to be the princess. Beautiful and lost and sweet. But not in this story. A little birdie told me, one day. I thought she'd fly away. But she sat by my ear, whispered secrets and...