Piaffe is loose in the world.

I've been working on this story for longer than I'd like to admit. It's been written, rewritten, revised, thoroughly overhauled, and rewritten again after sitting for a good long while. If it were a bottle of whiskey or bourbon, it'd be worth a pretty penny at this point.

It's not... but I hope it kicks like one.
This fantasy world is one that's been with me for so long that I've had to include a glossary of terms to anchor readers because it becomes a struggle to remember, in the throes of writing, what is known and what has simply become ingrained in the fiber of my being and flows through my veins.

So I'd like to do a little post introducing you to this not-Earth, where Gaia is called Ommat, the All-Mother, the sacred trees have veins of crystal, and the humans aren't the only recognized sapient species that contributes to the foundation of society and culture.
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