As a biting breeze stirs the branches, the leaves shudder and murmur, some still clinging to verdancy while the rest sing in crimson and gold. Many have silently drifted to join their brethren in the dirt. They gather in crisp, haphazard piles, perfect for foals to crash through or hide underneath. A soft-footed mare, cloaked primarily in obsidian but with belly, legs, and face in clearest white, reflects on those youthful days, which were not so long ago. She was usually one of the ones giggling beneath the decaying foliage. Others played games of chase while little Shadow waited for someone to come find her. It was always her eyes that gave her away. Crystalline pale blue. Eternally twinkling. She’d peer out to check if anyone was nearby. The sun would catch her earnest gaze– and thus was she spotted. ‘Doll-eyes’ was what her friend Barracuda called her, referring to those blonde porcelain figurines the two-legs from other worlds liked to place in shop windows. Despite the nickname, Shadow is nobody’s toy. Though shy in nature, her fierce spirit is a force to be reckoned with. Today, this very same spirit guides her towards a specific quest. Barracuda has issued her a challenge: on the very last day of the first month when the trees change, many creatures gather to light bonfires on hilltops, dance through the night, and pass out sweets to anyone who knocks on their door. There are many names for this autumnal celebration. Shadow often hears elders call it ‘Samhain,’ while foals say, ‘All-Hallow’s Eve,’ or even, ‘Halloween.’ This year, her stallion friend has tasked her with gathering the largest amount of treats she can possibly carry. She hates to let him down– he puts so much faith in her, and so little in everyone else. Thus, she set to digging around for that old wicker basket she found hidden in a haystack a few years back. It’s the perfect size to haul around piles and piles of delicious snacks. Furthermore, it has a latch top, which means nothing will fall out while she’s flying. After a few moments of searching, she locates the basket. Perfect! She begins shifting around so she can secure it at the base of her wings. Suddenly– tragedy and woe– she notices a jagged hole in the round barrel of the receptacle! “No,” she whispers, “no, no, no, no! What am I going to do? Okay, Shadow. Deep breaths. Let’s think…” She pauses in her panicking long enough to remember something vitally important. The bonfires! What do the locals of Verdant Hollow use to start their fires? Hawthorne branches. And what are hawthorne branches excellent for? Twisting, weaving, and braiding– especially in brooms, wreaths, and baskets! Shadow saw a group of mares gathered at the top of a grassy mound earlier that day. They were hauling in large piles of kindling from the nearby forest. Perhaps they’d be willing to spare a few twigs? Galloping at top speed, she takes to the air, her dark, bat-like wings flexing to carry her swiftly through the sky. The ancient oaks become tiny and dirt roads transform into squiggling worms as she floats higher and higher. She scans the breaks in the woodland– and there! Just at the edge of the treeline is a decent-sized knoll, teeming with equines of all shapes and sizes. She dips her head and goes into a nose-dive, pulling up just in time to avoid knocking over a delicate pile of carefully placed branches. “Whoa there!” calls a voice. A sturdy-looking draft piebald with three cream-colored horns trots over at Shadow’s approach. “What a landing. Here to help with the festivities?” Shadow paws at the ground nervously. “Um… actually, I… I was wondering if…” She trails off, anxious about asking these strangers for help. “I know why she’s here,” chuckled an appaloosa with feathery wings. “You’re a little early, but we definitely have a few caramel apples ready. You can take two!” The friendly Veilhorn nods to a nearby wicker table, upon which sits a wooden bowl full of thick melted caramel, a series of gorgeous red apples on sticks, and some fruits that are already dripping with sticky goodness. “We’ll wrap it up for you so you don’t get it all over your… oh. Seems you don’t have a treat bag. Not a problem! We have spares.” The appaloosa walks over to a pile of burlap sacks. She takes one in her teeth, heads back over to Shadow, and offers it to her with a smile. Shadow takes the bag, grateful for the help. These mares don’t even know her name, yet they’re being so generous. What did she do to deserve their kindness? “And here,” adds the draft, “are your treats. Enjoy!” Two caramel-covered apples are dropped into the sack. “Th-thank you,” Shadow stammers, not sure what else to say. “You’re very welcome. Now. Before you go, we have one quick requirement that comes with our caramel apples.” The draft horse stands tall, ready to deliver the news. “All we ask is that you listen to a story about All Hallow’s Eve and tell it to one of your friends. Does that sound fair?” The young mare nods, a captive audience to the older Veilhorns. “Splendid! Let’s begin.” The piebald, who introduces herself as Honey, begins a tale of strange beings traipsing about during the witching hour. Goblins and ghosts– fairies and wights, angels and demons– all are able to leap through portals similar to the ones Veilhorns use to travel, for the distance between worlds grows thinner on Samhain. They cross many thresholds, some of them aiming to torment the creatures they find there. Others only wish to play harmless tricks– and some arrive seeking saccharine delights– but it is hard to tell the difference between them. Thus, it is customary to light bonfires to keep evil at bay. Furthermore, everyone distributes treats throughout the entire evening, just in case one of the visitors knocking on the door is a guest from somewhere much farther than just up the road. Shadow finds herself fascinated by the story. She never knew that Halloween had so much history. She thanks the two mares, promising to pass the information on to her closest friend. Barracuda will be very impressed with her– for by the end of the night, she will not only have a bag full of candy, but a book’s worth of knowledge to share, as well.