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Description
Ever read up on the myths of changelings? So many strange techniques for revealing changelings, what changelings actually are, what defends against them. Boiling eggshells, iron scissors, foxglove paste under hearth stones, babies that turn into old faerie men, logs enchanted to look like babies, it's all pretty crazy. Love me some old Irish fairytales.

Wings are my favorite part of any faerie. It's like their visible storage of all their magic. In my story, wings are the powerhouse to a faerie's existence and sentience. If a changeling is cast into the world of man, oblivious to their condition, they'll feel their wings first. A tingle under the flesh, something moving beneath their skin. Happiness feeds their wings. If they're content and well fed with the magic of attention and emotional safety, their wings grow large and shine brightly. With their wings healthy, their glamour--a faerie's magic of illusion--is more tangible and easier to manipulate for their every desire. But if a changeling is lost and unloved, starving for attention without a host or a partner, their wings wither and they live their lives in a weakened state. They can't unfurl their wings and access their glamour anymore. They walk the human world feeling hollow and alone. Away from nature, trapped in urban areas, and without their needed food source, neglected changelings perish the same way elderly people die of a broken heart after their life partners pass on.

What have you heard about these creatures?

Description
Ever read up on the myths of changelings? So many strange techniques for revealing changelings, what changelings actually are, what defends against them. Boiling eggshells, iron scissors, foxglove paste under hearth stones, babies that turn into old faerie men, logs enchanted to look like babies, it's all pretty crazy. Love me some old Irish fairytales.

Wings are my favorite part of any faerie. It's like their visible storage of all their magic. In my story, wings are the powerhouse to a faerie's existence and sentience. If a changeling is cast into the world of man, oblivious to their condition, they'll feel their wings first. A tingle under the flesh, something moving beneath their skin. Happiness feeds their wings. If they're content and well fed with the magic of attention and emotional safety, their wings grow large and shine brightly. With their wings healthy, their glamour--a faerie's magic of illusion--is more tangible and easier to manipulate for their every desire. But if a changeling is lost and unloved, starving for attention without a host or a partner, their wings wither and they live their lives in a weakened state. They can't unfurl their wings and access their glamour anymore. They walk the human world feeling hollow and alone. Away from nature, trapped in urban areas, and without their needed food source, neglected changelings perish the same way elderly people die of a broken heart after their life partners pass on.

What have you heard about these creatures?