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The Sherwood Crier The Insider Newsletter of Sherwood Forest Faire

What’s InsideTo Honor a Distant Queen, p. 1, Mysteries & Marvels p. 1, In the Limelight p. 2, Vendor’s Corner p. 2,

Holiday Puzzle Contest & Rules p. 10, Classifieds p. 4, UnClassifieds p. 4 (in blue)

To Honor a Distant Queen:by Autouloucous Crookfinger

It is hard to believe that only four years ago there was not a single structure within the Sherwood Forest fairegrounds – nor even a fence around them. Walking through the village now you see hundreds of amazing buildings, stages, standing stones, and the pathways the good people of Sherwood have made by

adventuring from one to the other.

It is also plain to see the evidence of thousands of souls, who have applied their artistic vision, their hard work, and their own invaluable time to make Sherwood a place of wonder for all, and a haven for our community of artists, revelers, teachers, and lovers of life. So many bright souls have added their

Mysteries & Marvelsby Mab Middlin

“Such a beautiful morning,” I exclaim, breathing deeply of the crisp, fresh air, “and the trees are in their lovely autumn garb of golds and reds.” I stare up at this beauty as I hurry down the path, marveling at the myriad of colors...”aaaaaaaa!” I shriek as I trip and land heavily in the dirt. “What now?,” I grumble under my breath, “Why do people keep leaving things lying about on the path for unsuspecting, ordinary people...well, not that I can be considered in any way ordinary...to trip over and break a leg.” I raise myself up on my elbows and turn to see what manner of thing has caused my fall.

There, in the middle of the path, is a boot, the mate to which still adorns the foot of a rather diminutive but portly gentleman napping against the trunk of a tall tree. “A thousand pardons for disturbing you,” I begin, sarcasm dripping from my words, “but does that boot belong to you?” A long,

Queen Elizabeth I - Louisiana Renaissance Festival Portraits by Daisy

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In The LimelightKaade of the Woods

Vendor’s CornerFirefly Art Studio

FireFly Art Studio is a small Texas studio that bills itself as a ‘Mom, Pop, Two Boys, and a Grandma

Shop’.

Located in Conroe, Texas, FireFly is known for its whimsical pottery birdhouses, fused glass art, and silk ‘Dragon Ribbons’. Rick and Kirsten Crouse are the artisan proprietors along with Wolfe and Behr Crouse and

Lynn Cooper.

Kirsten got her start as a Rennie kid during the 3rd year of TRF where her mom,

Lynn Cooper, had her own booth. Later, while still in school together, Rick and Kirsten created ‘Fort Pottery’ in 1992 at the Texas Renaissance Festival selling Kirsten’s wheel thrown

pottery. Three years later, they took a break to focus on gallery shows, a studio business, and start their

family.

Longtime friends, and mutual vendors at both TRF and Sherwood – Jason and Angie Liems, urged the Crouses to go meet Eric and check out

his idea for a new faire. After following Eric through the thicket and brush and listening to his

As you enter Sherwood, you may find yourself drawn forward, your feet moving of their own volition, unconsciously seeking the source of a lilting melody on the air. When you find the source of this melody, you will be in the company of Kaade of the Woods. What you are hearing is FaeTrad - Kaade’s word for traditional music that stories and folktale ascribe to non-human musicians. At Sherwood Forest, this includes music from Scotland and Ireland (with a particular focus on the Shetland Isles and County Donegal), and Troll music from Norway. When at other venues, Kaade tries to include pieces from around the world including indigenous North American cultures, and Asian

flute music.

Kaade began playing (and accumulating) wood flutes as a teenager, and started performing semi-professionally in his twenties (he’ll be 39 this December!). His great grandmother was a great inspiration for him becoming a musician. She was the one who first told him about the effects flute music had on the Fae when, at about fifteen, he showed her what was to be the first of his many

side-blown bamboo flutes.

But Kaade doesn’t just play bamboo flutes...he plays any kind of flute he can find, as well as any

photo by Pygmypony

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vision, the Crouses were hooked before any ground had been broken.

FireFly Art studio is proud to be part of the inaugural group of vendors at Sherwood Forest Faire, and from day one it has been a wonderful family experience for them. “Sherwood has been great way to share what a positive influence faire participation is and to teach Wolfe and Behr how to

be entrepreneurs on their own.”

Rick and Kirsten have taken all of their faire experience and opened a retail storefront in Conroe’s Historic Downtown Area called ‘Liberty ArtWorks’. They specialize in supplies for the glass artist with a focus on ‘Made in America’. They have classes & workshops in both clay and glass, and a gallery promoting Texas artists. Contact info is www.

libertyartworksUSA.com and 936.264.3520.

The early influences of renaissance faire participation have been unexpected and far reaching.

Both of the Crouse boys are US National athletes in the sport of Fencing (Épée for those who are curious). Both boys have represented the United States at the Pan American Youth Games and competed against kids from Europe, Russia, South/C e n t r a l America, and Canada.

Wolfe Crouse is currently ranked number 1 in the country for his age group and hopes to eventually qualify for the 2020

Olympics.

To help finance their fencing competitions

object that can be used as a flute. However, he prefers traditional wood flutes because the sound is so close to sounds of the natural world. These include Irish (early Classical) flute, Irish whistle, ocarinas, Native American cedar flutes, shakuhachi, ney, panpipes, and recorder. But he doesn’t leave out the nontraditional...Kaade also plays, as a flute, many random items - shower curtain rods, crutches, and even those round-icecubes-with-holes-in-the-middle, to name a few; each has its own unique voice. He is also fascinated by instruments used to alter perception/reality, such as the Finnish kantele harp, and jaw-harps, both used by shamans in Northern Europe, and some other instruments in the folk tradition such as rhythm bones and the mountain dulcimer. In recordings, he utilizes whatever he can to create the sound he wants, arranging and using software synthesis and sending the sounds of the

natural instruments through multiple effects.

About 13 years ago, in suburban Maryland near Bethesda, Kaade first heard Owain Phyfe play (accompanied by the “Below the Beltway Band”) and can remember his ending the performance with “Health to the Company.” That sent Kaade wandering toward our Rennie world and to Early Music. Scott Boswell and Bethany MacLyr helped him navigate his way toward Renaissance Festivals. Danny Johnson and Wendy Brockett who are, respectively, the artistic and practical minds behind

cont’d on p. 4

Kaade cont’d from p. 2Firefly cont’d from p. 2

photo by Joe Spitler

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and training, Wolfe and Behr have learned how to dye and set silk along with sewing on a serger machine. They do the silk ‘Dragon Ribbons’ that

you see kids playing with at Sherwood.

Kirsten Crouse is on the Board of Directors for USA Fencing (the official USA governing body for the sport) and is an advocate for the promotion of fencing on all levels and genres. In her words, “the opportunities for kids through fencing are amazing & incredible. Texas is one of the premier states for fencing. We lead the nation in Épée. Fencing

should be the Olympic sport of Ren Faires.”

Wolfe and Behr say “Why play around with a ball when you can just stab em!”

the Texas Early Music Project, have allowed him to volunteer his way to amazing conferences and experts in the field of pre-Classical and period

performance.

Kaade says “The Renfest community values not only skills that the majority culture forgets that it needs, our community also welcomes the contributions of people, like myself, who are wired differently from 99% of the world, whether those differences are labelled learning disabilities, ADHD, or autism spectrum- I find that thinking very differently, in ways that are often discouraged in schools and the 9 to 5 workforce, is valued here in the Rennie community, a community that finds treasures in

things old, curious, and different.”

Kaade of the Woods lives at the intersection of two worlds- the natural yet unpredictable world of the Fae and the exciting- albeit confounding- world of human beings. Come join him at that intersection and follow his melodies into the realm of music and

mystery.

If you’d like to learn more about Fae-Trad, follow this link http://www.kaade.net/Faetrad.html

And click here if you’d like to see most of Kaade’s instruments: http://www.kaade.net/Instruments.

html

Firefly cont’d from previous page

Classfied Ads

RenShirts in booth #203 now has a new line of Dark Brown shirts. www.renshirts.com

************“WE BUY USED RENFAIRE GEAR!

Tobar Tinker’s Pawn and Repair will buy your used renfaire clothing, weapons/armor, shoes/boots, leather objects, and anything ‘rennish’. Booth 204 in

front of the joust arena.”

***********At The Top has put down solid roots at Sherwood in the form of a beautiful new building. Come visit us

and get your whimsey on!

unClassifieds

Public notice: Elf Union Local 419 on strike for unsafe working conditions and unfair compensation at Santa’s workshop. Union spokesman Nigel Nimble stated that far from the positive depictions of Mr and Mrs Claus fabricated in Santa’s public relations department they are both cold-hearted entrepreneurs running a seasonal sweatshop paying

extremely low wages. We demand fair wages, medical and dental coverage, and something to eat besides old reindeer meat. And yes, a heater in the workspace would be nice--

it’s the North Pole--dang it.

Kaade cont’d from previous page

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Elf ’s Cornerby Tamuri’l the Avarial Elf

*the Elf unrolls a golden scroll from which autumn leaves float magically to the

ground*

HEAR YE!! HEAR YE!!Please gather all Lords, Ladies

and Fabled of our great Woods!

Ye Volunteer Department hath been very busy with many appearances in many new districts to spread

news of our humble forest!

The Day of the Dead brought together many Sherwoodians in Bastrop. Headed by Autouloucous and Robin Hood, they sang, played music,

danced, and paraded to remind everyone of our Kingdom and to invite them to come play in our woods.

With myself at the helm and the Barbarian of Valhalla at my side, we became the hit of the Austin Celtic Festival. Along with Robroy and Monk, we

frolicked as we spread word of Sherwood, gifting wide smiles and laughter to all we met. The wares of several of our Sherwood Shoppes now jingle in Austin patrons’ pockets, which will surely entice them to seek out our forest in

own “brush stroke” to this great canvas that even the trees of Sherwood have not seen them all; and not all of these supporters have shaped the paths

with their footsteps.

One year ago, it was my great pleasure to finally meet a benevolent monarch who has been one of these unseen supporters of Sherwood Forest Faire since well before we opened our gates in 1189 (2010). As early as 2008, Sherwood Forest Faire has existed as a community, with dozens of early supporters sharing their ideas and their eager anticipation through magical messages and crystal ball communions. Some of these messages reached Elizabeth I of the Louisiana Renaissance Festival when the only structures at Sherwood were the little wooden stakes that Lord Eric and I had hammered into the ground. After hearing of our dreams and visions, the queen quickly sent dispatches of support to me, offering her services and advice as a costume designer and an actress; and she also sent messengers to Sherwood with gifts of Costumes and Jewelry for Sherwood’s yet-to-be cast. Her Majesty’s support for our infant Faire was a great inspiration to me, and so I vowed to one day visit Her Majesty’s realm, and give reverence to this kind matriarch who bestowed such honors

upon our growing shire.

Louisiana Renaissance Festival’s Queen Elizabeth is played by costume designer and actress Kimberly Stockton, who portrays Queen Elizabeth at two other faires: The Tennessee Renaissance Festival and The Santa Fe Renaissance Festival. Other than being on ren-faire casts for 20 years now, most of her non-faire stage work has been behind the scenes, working as technical crew and as a costume designer, her true passion. As a young lady Kimberly wrote a paper on Medieval women’s clothing, which led her to visit the Tennessee Renaissance Festival for research, dressed in what she now deems a “poorly-made”

Honor a Queen cont’d from p.1

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photo by Portraits by Daisy

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photo by Joe Spitler

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search of more treasures of the realm.

New ground hath been broken by Sherwood Volunteers! Thank ye Robroy!! He ran as swift as the wind at the “First on the Track” race, and passed out a phenomenal two cases of Sherwood Faire postcards at the newly opened Formula 1 Racetrack in the

neighboring Kingdom of Austin!

*the Elf raises her small bottle in salute*

Ye Volunteer Department hath partnered with the “Make a Wish Foundation” through Sherwood’s own Dragon Clan and over $1000 was raised last season. Remember to visit Draco, the Dragon Well,

for ye monies cast therein do go to a great cause!

*the Elf tosses the scroll high into the air and it bursts into shower of sparkling lights that fall upon her head and shoulders as she reenters the now-

silent woods*

costume. But very soon she found herself visiting the faire in costumes that she put more and more effort into, and as “Faire” has enraptured so many of us, she found herself hooked as a costume designer and cast member. She says that it was the love of costuming and medieval fashion that first brought her to this faire life, but soon going to faire became “all about the people” for her. The community surrounding faire, she tells me, is a microcosm of society as a whole, with all sides of humanity revealing themselves at faire. And the beauty is that, for the most part, all sides of our micro-society are able to get along with each other, and accept each other as

important parts.

But Her Majesty does not simply accept all persons without scrutiny. Nay, even the gallant knights of her court have found themselves receiving her sternest of warnings – though none have yet trespassed quite so far as to be thrown into the beautiful pond which stands at the center of the Louisiana Renaissance Festival. She promises to do so, however, if any give her just cause. These same knights, The New Riders of the Golden Age, will be gracing the field of Sherwood Forest next season. Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth begs that we keep a watchful eye on them, as from time to time she has wondered as to whether or not they are all purely chivalrous on the jousting field. Her unassuming advice is simply to “know which knight for whom you are cheering”, some ride with honor and others

are roguish knaves.

As I mentioned before, I had the great honor of meeting Queen Elizabeth on her own Terra Firma last Winter at the Louisiana Renaissance Festival. My horses drove all through the night from Sherwood to the Louisiana Faire, racing at the end to catch the opening ceremonies for the final day of the faire. But alas, the 10 minute nap that my horses and I took by the wayside, though it may have saved our lives, Sherwoodians invade the neighboring kingdom of TRF - Huzzah!

Honor a Queen cont’d from p. 5

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photo by Portraits by Daisy

Elf ’s Corner cont’d

Wanda Schopp of Make a Wish Foundation

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also cost me the honor of greeting the Queen at the front gate opening ceremony. I was hastily putting on my stripy socks when I heard the cannon’s blast, and Her Majesty’s entourage had just departed as I shuffled up to the gate keepers. I was porting a gift for the queen, a Sherwood mug from 1190. But as I hurried in pursuit of Queen Elizabeth, I realized that I had forgotten to put a feather in my hat! How awkward I would have looked expecting to present myself before the very Queen

with a plain, unfeathered hat!

I soon found a feather monger, who set my top piece aright with a nice red one, and there right across from the feather man’s booth stood the Queen’s Pavilion with Elizabeth Herself holding court. ‘Twas a lovely sight to behold, with attendants at her right and left, and royal guards at the ready. After a nod from the guard I approached upon the long red carpet that led to the throne, and in the middle I did kneel before the Queen, presenting my small token of appreciation for her early support of

our faire Sherwood. I was then bound to beg Her Majesty’s leave to visit another great supporter of Sherwood Forest faire, Madam Ghislaine, who holds Wine Tastings at both Louisiana and Sherwood Forest. I was to help her prepare for her last day of Wine seminars, but when I arrived at Madam Ghislaine’s tent, there was naught to be done but to help Madam’s friend Herr Gartner, of Volgemut, to finish his breakfast with a Beer Tasting seminar! This breakfast set the mood for the day until it was finally time for the Wine Tasting which I would attend – the last one of the day, and of the season. There I was serenaded by Herr Gartner and none other than our beloved Owain Phyfe. I was entertained by Robin Hood,

and the Tortuga Twins, as well as some other wonderful players. But it was the event’s highlight when Queen Elizabeth herself

happened by the Wine Tent to drink wine and nibble fine cheeses with us, her grateful subjects. I have included a portrait that I made of the Queen at this table of delicious food and drink. Although I am proud to say the details are all to my liking, Madam Ghislaine’s tall “tastes” of wine had some effect on my perspective. Luckily the Queen was able to provide a more upstanding portrait for contrast. Her Majesty did enliven the Wine Tasting even further with her grace and wit. She once caught Robin Hood trying to drink from her glass, though when he was discovered he promised he was only tasting it in case of poison. This caused all the revelers to roar, and so Queen Elizabeth pardoned him with a watchful look. We sang one more song along with Owain, and then we, the Queen’s attendants, all staggered away to lean against trees and wait for the season’s final fireworks

show.

It shall be the final weekend of The Louisiana Renaissance Faire again this weekend, and I recommend any willing traveler to make the journey. Even if you have visited once upon a time, it is high time to make the trip again. Her Majesty tells me that in the seven years since she was anointed Queen, there have been many improvements and additions. The community surrounding The Louisiana Renaissance Faire has the same kind of heart that Sherwood’s people do. This past fall the lake rose up, and flooded many of the shops, but an army of faire supporters and participants came together to clean up and rebuild before this current season. Now THAT kind of energy is the stuff that holds our faire communities together. And just as we have our beloved Robin Hood at Sherwood, the faires in Louisiana, Tennessee, and Santa Fe are so very lucky to have a benevolent monarch who represents all that is creative, just, and merry! Here’s a health to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth I and to all our faire family

at the Louisiana Renaissance Faire. Laissez les bons temps rouler!

phto by Andre Olivier

Honor a Queen cont’d from p. 6

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low snore emits from the man as he stirs slightly in his drowse. I rise to my feet, brush the dirt from my gown, and stomp over to him. “Sorry to wake you,” I say, as I nudge him rather vigorously, “but your errant boot is a danger to innocent passersby.” “Say what?” The man snorts loudly as his eyes fly open, “what’s that you say?” “Good lady,” he exclaims as he leaps nimbly to his feet, “I meant not for this to

happen! How can I make it up to you?”

“Well sir,” I say, somewhat amazed at his agility for such a portly man, “you can bear me company for a ways for my ankle is sorely bruised.” He quickly pulls on the offending boot, then bows deeply over my hand, his long, bushy beard sweeping the path in his low obeisance to me. “There, there,” I exclaim, flustered by his overt show of honor, “I am not the queen!” “I am Mab Middlin, Ace Reporter for the Sherwood Crier,” preening myself a little as say this, “and who might you be?” “I am called Toff.” Toff takes my elbow gently within his pudgy hands and

leads me carefully down the path.

We do not get far before a plaintive sound reaches our ears, a low mooing sound with a slight catch of sadness at the end as if someone is sobbing. Toff and I glance at each other in concern, and hurry in the direction of the

sound. We find ourselves suddenly in a wide clearing in the midst of a small herd of cows. They pay us no attention whatsoever intent as they are at grazing. All around us is the gentle clinking of their bells, many different sounds all coming together in a seemingly accidental melody. One cow stands apart from the others and it is from her that we hear the low mooing sound. She leans against a tree while

she weeps.

“Dear cow,” I say as Toff and I approach her, “how

is it you are weeping here with all your fine friends about?” “You don’t understand,” the cow says and continues sobbing, “mooo-mooo-sob.” “We would love to help,” I say as I reach out to her, “please tell us what may be the matter.” I lay my had across her back to comfort her and draw it back quickly in surprise! “Why...you have wings!,” I exclaim, “how is this so?” “I am Moolissa, the cow fairy,” she says between sobs, “but I am still just as much a cow as they are!” “But then what is the problem,” I ask, “how can we help?” “I have no bell!” she wails, as if this should make everything crystal clear to us. “A cow is nothing without her bell,” Moolissa says, “if the herd can’t hear her bell, they can’t identify her, so she does not exist for them.” “This is my herd,” Moolissa continues, “but they shun me!” Moolissa

breaks into uncontrollable sobbing again.

I decide to discuss this with the herd when Toff holds up a hand to stop me, “no, no,” he says, talking to them won’t help.” He twists around and pulls a small sack from his belt, rummages around a bit, and pulls out a large cowbell. “Didn’t know I had one in there,” Toff declares, “this is for you, little lady!” Moolissa’s face suffuses with delight at the tinkle it makes as she ties the bell

around her neck.

All the cows in meadow pop their heads up at the sound of the bell and come to investigate. Moolissa looks worried for a moment and stands very still...and then she is surrounded with many cows rushing to her from every part of the clearing, all of them talking at once, welcoming her and rubbing horns with her

in greeting

“I think we should be on our way,” Toff says with a grin, and he pulls me, unresisting, away from the mini stampede and up the path. “Wow, Toff,” I say in happy surprise, “it sure was great that you

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photo by William Clements

photo by William Clements

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had a bell in your bag!” “Yes,” Toff answered, “I always forget what I have and what I don’t have, but somehow I usually have what is needed.” “Why look over there,” Toff adds, “I see another creature who may need our help.” “I must say, Toff,” I tell him, “you seem to have a knack for finding this sort of thing.” Toff ’s dimples deepen as smiles widely at

me, and we hurry over to the little squirrel.

The squirrel, I notice as we approach, has draped himself belly-down over the branch with his legs hanging limply on either side. “Dear squirrel,” I ask, “Whyever are you in this position?” “Yes,” Toff chimes in disapprovingly, “you look like you’ve laid yourself out to be a meal for the next predatory bird to fly by.” “Well, you’ve caught me out,” the little squirrel says sadly, “I don’t have the stomach to do meself in, so I’m letting a local bird get hisself a right good meal.” “Why that’s awful,” I exclaim, “whatever can have brought you to this pass?” “It’s me tail, milady,” the squirrel cries, “or rather my lack of one.” I take a closer look at the squirrel, and amazingly he is, in fact, without said appendage!

“However did that happen,” I ask, “and why is this so devastating that you would end your life?”

“Ah, milady,” the squirrel smiled sadly at me, “Why, our tails keep us balanced in the trees, they keep us warm in the winter, they

camouflage us from thems who would make meals of us, and most importantly, they help us woo our

mates.” “Yes,” I say, “well, I understand perfectly now...just imagine if I’d lost my hat in that last infamous adventure!” Toff and the squirrel look at me with blank stares for a moment; they blink a couple of times and continue. “But what happened to your tail,” Toff asks, “is it not normally quite firmly attached to your...um...er...bottom?” “I may have had more than my fair share of hazelnut wine,” the squirrel says, “but I was in full control of meself when I finally found my sleeping hollow that night,

yet when I awoke, my tail had vanished!” “And,” I ask, “apart from waking up without your tail, did anything else strange happen that night?” “Well, yes,” the squirrel replied, “I now have a tattoo on

my belly where none was before.”

Toff and I leaned closer to inspect his belly, and sure enough, a tattoo of a fairy holding a hazelnut over her head covers his entire midriff. “It’s actually quite nice,” I say encouragingly, “as tattoos go.” The squirrel lifts his head from the branch to look glumly at me for a moment, and then lets if fall back with a dejected thump.

“Here it is,” Toff declares, “I knew I had something that might work.” In his hand, he holds a fluffy brush-like thing. “What is that,” the squirrel asks, “it kinda looks like a squirrel tail...sorta” “It will be just the thing,” Toff answers, “it’s a brush made from yak tail hairs.” “And, don’t worry, the yak didn’t mind,” he says with a hearty laugh. Toff pulls out one of his own sturdy whisker hairs and deftly ties the yak brush to the squirrel’s nether end. “There,” Toff says, “try it out.” To the squirrel’s astonishment, the yak tail moves perfectly with his body! He swishes it, he curls it about himself, and he holds it up for balance. Finally, with a gravity-defying leap, he catapults into a nearby tree and runs toward the deeper woods, chittering his thanks over his shoulder as he goes.

“How is it,” I ask, “that you always have just the thing in your pack?” “I just don’t know” Toff answers, “it’s a sort of

knack with me.”

Just then, I see some movement in the bushes along the path, and a white tail vanishes. “Toff!” I exclaim excitedly, “did you see the white dog.” “Only a

photo by PHN Photography

Mysteries cont’d from p. 8

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glimpse,” he answers, “whyever did he run away like that?” “He’s saved me and others countless times,” I tell him. “I just wish I could get close to him,” I add, “close enough to thank him and to find out to whom he belongs.” Toff and I continue along the path to the Seven Sisters. A man stands within the stone circle; he is clearing brush and stacking it into

the firepit in the center of the circle.

“Good day to thee,” Toff and I call out in unison as we approach the man. “Good day,” he answers brightly, how do thee fare on such a fair day?” “Well, indeed,” Toff answers for us both. I notice a hint of sadness behind the man’s cheerfulness, so I ask, “sir, is there aught which bothers you?” “Ay,” he answers, “‘tis my duty to maintain the fire here at the Seven Sisters.” “But,” I ask, “Why does that sadden thee?” “It is a constant reminder,” he says, a shadow of remembered pain darkens his face, “to a day sometime ago, when I could not save my dear Ren from a fire that raged through our woods.” “That is a terrible memory to carry with you,” I say, “I wish I could know he forgave me,” the man

smiles sadly, “so I could then forgive myself.”

“I don’t know why, but it seems this might help,” Toff says as he reaches around for his pack and withdraws a small reed whistle. “I can’t believe it!” the man exclaimed, “That looks just like the whistle I carved for Ren so he would always know where to find me.” The man takes the whistle and blows into it with a sad, despairing look, knowing full well, Ren could never answer his call. The leaves nearby rustle slightly and the white dog walks slowly out. I

am astonished, once again, that the outlines of the bushes are faintly visible through him.. as if he were at once there, and somehow

not there. “This is your Ren?” I ask with surprise, “why, he’s helped me many times, though I could

never get a good look at him!”

The dog enters the sacred circle of the Seven Sisters, and sits directly in front of the man, who immediately drops to one knee. They close in embrace; Ren with his head upon the man’s shoulder, and the man with his arms tightly around Ren. As Toff and I move to let them share this moment in privacy, sparks shoot up from the firepit and I jump back in surprise. I look back at the man and see he now stands alone.

Ren is gone.

The man turns to look at me, his face is aglow. “Milady,” the man says, “Ren is gone, but I can be happy again.” “How is that,” I ask? “Losing Ren in the fire broke my heart,” he says, “and somehow Ren knew this.” “So, he was determined to stay in our world, helping those he could, until he could find me again and tell me he will live forever in my heart and it is ok to let him go.” “Sir,” the man turns to Toff, “how could know the perfect gift for me, the perfect gift that would ease my heart?” “I know not,” says Toff, “it is a just a small talent I

have.”

The man returns to clearing the sacred circle, but now with a light heart and a spring to his step. Toff and I head back toward the hill, arm in arm now, enjoying the moment of happiness Ren has given us all. “Well Toff,” I say, “do you have some absolutely perfect thing just for me in that bag of yours?” “Alas,” Toff says, “my bag is empty just now and I know not when more will fill it...I suppose when there is need.” “I was delighted to meet you, though,” I say, “and delighted to share in the joy you brought to all we met.” “It was also my pleasure to meet you, Mab Middlin,” Toff answers as he sweeps me a low bow, “and I, Kristoffer Kringle, bid you a fond farewell.” “Nice name, but I kinda like Toff better,” I think, as I wave my hand airily after him, “but I have an idea for a fabulous story about him!” I catch a glimpse of Toff winking over his shoulder at me as I hurry home to put

quill to paper.

photo courtesy of The Flute Cart

Mysteries cont’d at top of next column

Mysteries cont’d from p. 9

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Across3) Ribbons at Firefly Art Studio are named for what mythical creature?5) Dark “what” is the new color available at Renshirts? 6) In what sport do the Crouse boys compete? 9) On what body part does the squirrel get a tattoo? 10) The side-blown flute Kaade showed his great-

grandmother was made of what material? 11) Tobar will buy anything “what”?

Down1) At the Top has a new “what”? 2) What does Toff give Moolissa?4) Who ran in the “First on the Track” race?7) What color is the Elf ’s scroll?8) What is Autouloucous missing from his hat?

Sherwood Crier Holiday PuzzleWin Tickets!

Rules:Solve the puzzle. All the answers can be found in this issue of the Sherwood Crier.Send the answers (numbered 1-11) in an email to:sherwoodcrier@sherwoodforestfaire.comThe first 3 people to email all the correct answers win 2 Any-Day passes to the upcoming Sherwood Forest Faire.Winners determined by correct answers and date/time stamp on email.Only 1 winner per household, please.

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Heartfelt thanks to:William Clements, Autouloucous Crookfinger, Firefly Art Studio, Kaade of the Woods, Moolissa the Cow Fairy, PHN Photography, Pygmypony, Wanda Schopp, Joe Spitler, Kimberly Stockton, Tamuri’l the Avarial Elf

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