[ WP ] every person who comments on this are all living in a small village in the countryside . Somehow your story has to tie in with some one else 's story . First person to submit gets to choose the main plot . Be creative !

Rein Tanner was quite a fine tanner. In the three hundred years since the Village on the Brook had been founded by their sires, none had yet compared to the suppleness of his cured skins, nor the enduring boots and cloaks that were born from the harvest of his labor. And while many a Tanner were crotchety, unpleasant folk-and really, who could blame them, what with the perfume of their trade forcing them to the outskirts of the Village on the Brook-Rein Tanner was a polite, if quite sort of young man. The kind that was forgot in the corner of the room, watching as others laughed and jibbed, but nearly always friendly enough when finally noticed, and made an effort more than most to smell as little of the vats as he could. 
 
 It was the gospel truth that though he was polite, he did n't seek the attention or intention of any man-a fit trait for his trade-and none of any woman, save that of Joanna Thatcher. Her dark, flaxen lined hair was like gossamer in his heart, the light of her smile the north star of his dreams, which themselves were tinted the color of her evergreen eyes. 
 
 Oft he would sit and wait by the tanning vats just as the last dim light of day cast it's gleam off the steam rising from them, and more often than not she would come, and he would glimpse her for a brief moment as she plunged fearlessly into the heart of the woods to chase her own love, the Fae. 
 
 The Fae were a mighty, wild folk that dwelt in desolate lands such as the Village on the Brook. They were as liable to cruelty as kindness, to pain as comfort, and the difference was little seen to them. To her they were freedom and a clever madness, and so she would depart in the grey of the morn and the twilight of evening when they're closest to Man, and pursue them as the relentless hunter pursues a buck. Oft she came back, pale, breathless, her eyes like a quarried dog, and Tanner glimpsed her before she passed from sight into the thicket. Sometimes she would return with tears, and he knew that she'd been kissed, or struck, or both, and his heart hurt in different ways. 
 
 Once as she came back, a scar over eyes filled with the ruin of defeat, he felt his heart stop within him. It remained so as he followed her home, a few steps behind so that she never saw nor heard him. She walked slowly back into her house, a small, well thatched hut within view of the Brook. A few moments later, he reached the door, and as if possessed, knocked upon it and asked for her hand. 
 
 She refused, yet, he persisted. Once a night for weeks he returned, asking the same simple answer, and receiving the same simple reply. As she made her way into the forest one evening, Rein ran to meet her. She met him cooly, yet her eyes contained something akin to compassion.
