The moon; innocent turner of tides, or malicious bastard just waiting for a chance to stab us all in the back?
When the wild hunt rides into the mortal world, reality cracks and breaks, and the fae chase their quarries until the veil can tolerate their presence no longer.
The end of the world has been predicted so many times that it has taken on a life of its on - and keeps spreading around to prolong its own existence. Someone didn't get the memo.
