Unless I have other intentions, the places I go to tend to have something in common. Low hills, great and small rivers, meadows, swamps in which you cannot drown, thickets of shrubs, visible, neat groves, forest ribbons along flowing water. Forest bristles on the backs of dormant hills, sometimes huge boulders in the most unexpected places. Giant gnarled trees standing alone from each other in the forests of monstrous antiquity. This is a book for beautiful ladies, teenagers and hopeless romantics. Something like urban fantasy without elves with orcs or just a kind fairy tale for tired adults.