"Bhaie? Why do we have shadows?" A little boy asked. "Well, it's simple little one." The woman with skin from potters clay, and raven dark hair answered. "When you stand against the light you cast a shadow."

"Are shadows bad?" Asked the boy's sister. "For me little flower, shadows are like small stones you can carry everywhere. You can throw it to a person and hurt that person or you choose to build with it. I choose to build with it."

"Anita! Greg!" A voice called. "Where are you?!!" The voice is getting angrier and harsher. "Come out you little dogs."

"I'm scared." Cried Anita. "I'll protect you!" Greg declared with tear filled eyes. "But Greg uncle is a mean drunk. Your bruises haven't healed yet." With worry she grips her skirt.

"Do you like here?" Asked the woman. Their head bobbed nodding. "How about being my servants? I'll give you a monthly wage, food and clothing. Would you like that?" Once again their head s nodded in agreement.

"First in being my servant is warning outsiders not to try to pass the black mushrooms. You tell them that when they trespass they are fair game to the inhabitants of the dark forest. Now, tell your uncle that the shadow forest belongs to the shadows."