A fairy tale forest by daylight was rich with purity, showered with sunlight and made lively by the business of sweet woodland animals that had every right to be feral. Instead, they partook in what could only be called frolicking amid the leaves and roots, flocking to the hand of any young maiden or gentleman who happened across them. The prince knew this, not in his mind or even his heart, but in the words that had spun him into a tapestry of ethereal flesh, words that had made him <i>the Prince Who Loves Everyone...</i> Everything had to love him in return, of course, it was their only role- The other characters had not even names, but they loved the prince. That was <i>all</i> their nature consisted of, and he could not have changed it.

He was so delightfully glad he had left the castle. <s>Even if it meant he was alone now.</s> His heart felt so much lighter, so much clearer. <s>Even if it wasn't quite pure.</s> He smiled just a bit too widely for it to be serene as he stepped into the meadow, holding out his hands and trusting that the woodland creatures would appreciate the gesture.

"Come now, won't you?"

<i>Such a beautiful scene, all the little animals coming to see the prince...</i>

But nothing came. Not a single little squirrel, not a bird fluttered to rest on his outstretched palm. His pink eyes grew a shade darker, flicking back and forth as if to devour the clearing and its tiny inhabitants.  Perhaps the story was no longer bound by his rule.

Perhaps in earning his supposed freedom, he had lost his world. Perhaps he was no longer a prince. He was useless to his people now, and not even the creatures had any appreciation left for him. And how could he have a princess if he was no prince?

Though his limbs trembled, he spun away, tipping his head forward graciously as he sneered.

"I see. I understand. Very well, then."

If he couldn't be a fairy tale prince, he would be a Prince of the Crows. If he could not receive love from his people, then he didn't need them. He would venture to such a place where the animals were vicious and sated from carrion. He spun from the perfection of the meadow to walk where the trees were tangled in shadow.