The Fey carnival doesn’t tolerate freeloaders. You thought you slipped in unnoticed, but the price was taken all the same: your instinct for self-preservation.
You didn’t pay the ticket price, and the Fey took their due in kind. They reached into your soul and plucked out the part of you that warns of danger, leaving behind a whimsical recklessness. Peril feels distant, like a shadow barely brushing the edges of your awareness. The laughter and lights of the carnival still linger in your mind, muffling the cries of caution. You walk into danger with the same thoughtless ease as stepping onto a Ferris wheel, unaware of the drop until it’s too late.
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