I wrote the tale of the snake-mage, based on lore about skin-changers. I felt guilty, like it wasn’t authentic enough because I invented it.  But then I dreamed (without fear) that my pillow turned into the gigantic snake, in all the same colors.  So in this case a dream validated the writing after the fact.

My maternal Grandmother taught me that you must only fight a skinchanger in his animal form.  This prevents people suffering from unjust accusations (not so good for unjustly accused animals, I daresay!)  Anyway, she said she thought her husband was made sick by a skinchanger, once.  She hung dried corn outside the door and waited.  When she saw a crow pecking the corn she shot her, wounding the bird in the wing.  The next day one of her neighbors, a woman jealous of her marriage, had an arm in a sling.  From that day forward, she said, her husband's health improved.