Description The Mare of BonesWhen at the crossroads she said and the moon she beams at the high set, turn ye widdershins thrice then stamp thee foot and gaze away to the west. The mare will come to take ye on her wild ride.Only the mad or wanton would mount that steed beneath the stars; to romp and gallop through all the provinces of hell and back and stop at the devils very stoop to hear his riddle. But for those who do, and return at last out of the night, they speak of such wonders beyond the veil, of gardens vast and lands untamed and trees that drip with the fruit of paradise. One can listen to their tales of wonder and hear in them the ring of truth and yet look into their eyes and see no more desire for the simple life that lay before them. Cursed are those who have glimpsed paradise before their time. Troubled they lay their heads at night and gently whisper out to the mare of bones.****Story inspired by certain Celtic fairy tales and a touch of Lovecraft.