Kidnapping of some knight. Though a distinction really must be made. The mythoscape is littered with so many maids a-wander, peering under every suspect toadstool for a handsome abductee, that how is one to know? How are they to know for that matter? One gent is like to the next when it comes to the tug of Faery. They are nothing but poor souls whose lot it is to be completely unmanned under the gaze of the Goddess--as Troll Princess, Titania, Venus herself. In that arena a Cupid looks much like a Beast, who looks much like a Bear, or a Frog Prince, or a Tam Lin. Under such circumstances, who would blame a girl for a slight blurring in discernment to make a quick end to her search? Keep in mind that half these women are trudging around with growing wombs.
But they do know and they stay the course--floating over the geography like pretty spores. White-gowned, white-crowned, with passive purpose. Until the time comes to get weedy and tenacious.
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