Walker likes to take a nap here on his sofa💗
The Gate to the Sanctuary✨
Andrew Lang’s “Princess Nobody - A Tale of Fairyland”
Art by Richard Doyle (1824-1883)
Deet’s house now next to the sacred mystic blue valley ✨
𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒚
You always can find someone to talk to at plaza!
Zell looking happy to be here in Álfheimr😍✨
Stunned and marveling that so many beautiful wall papers in the game😱💗
The Star Taler
Oil Paint, Acrylic & Digital Art
cute lil fairy collage
oh to frolick through a meadow in a fairy dress like this one
When people mention the witch of the woods, it’s in hushed tones. It’s a dangerous secret traded amongst the working girls. A whisper passed through the silent communities.
There is a witch in the wood. She can help you get rid of an unwanted pregnancy. She can give you poisons for your abusive husband. She can make curses for racists. Violent delights. Carnal ends.
No one seems to trade the secrets she practices that are peaceful. She can change your appearance and gender. She can give you potions for a better harvest. She can teach you how to have better sex. She can help you get a child. She can protect your home from spirits or racist neighbors. She sells teas and soaps and hair oils and satchels and chimes. She will braid your hair and read your cards and fix your hem and listen. Most importantly listen.
I am the witch of the wood. My cottage is surrounded by flowers all year long and warded against most things. There are baby cows out back and cats that come and go. Friendly ducks in the pond and small dragon who lives inside. Visitors offer tales and chickens and seeds and baked meals. The bring money or clothes or books and we trade services.
But the violent things are free.
Do you know the tale of Roanoke?
A village which swallowed ten thousand folk
On the surface nothing’s clear
But a tree, that all should fear
The secret that the roots do keep
Hiding ancient stairs to earth so deep
Where a hungry tomb began to feed
No single force could quell its greed
With haunting tune it beckoned along
No one dare able to resist its song
Once they entered none would leave
Beds of stone to which they’d cleave
Their final breath, was bittersweet
And in their deaths they all did meet
Now you know this tale of woe
And the ghosts who lie singing below
So listen well as it is no joke
The dreadful tale of roanoake
Mammoth in the house!
Bamboo forest update✨
Ink, Watercolor, Acrylic & Digital Art