Three Twisted Knots

Not all those who wander are lost.

I should be used to it, really. Used to the way things appear and disappear and remake themselves. It is Faerie, after all. But that never stops me from just staring in raw wonder at some of the things that crop up. In the Sacred Grove, there’s a new faerie circle with lovely illuminated grass and mushrooms that, …

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Style Card: Body: Maitreya Head: Vista Bento Mesh Head, Lia Skin: The Plastik, Golha Skin Eyes: Mesange, Argos Eyes Dress: Paper Moon, Desire Shoes: The Plastik, The Filvina Heels Hair: Truth, Tinsley (VIP December Gift) House: Rivendale, Dreamy Castle Christmas Tree and Decorations: The Looking Glass, Our Festive Joy Books: Stormwood Goblet: Artisan Fantasy  

While it is true that the Fae year ends and begins at Samhain, I was raised in the mortal world with parents who had no idea of my heritage and a Welsh granny who wasn’t telling. And so despite the lack of real evidence around great things happening on the thirty-first of December, my own psyche …

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Oh, The Hill. Colours just seem brighter there. Light seems to come from all directions. Animals and tiny creature frolic. It made me want to frolic, too. And then, of course, there is the music. At the Great Faire, music comes from all directions. Sometimes it’s contemplative and thoughtful, but last night, there was dance music. …

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Enticing the Gypsy Davey to set up a residence in Faerie again wouldn’t be easy. You’d need a special place, for an erstwhile Rom Baro. You’d need a place like Vagabond. I hesitated at the door. The boys had spent the last couple of days putting together what they promised would be a vardo fit for a baro, but …

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So, yeah. I was talking about Clutie in my last post, and about how she just annoys me to pieces these days. As it happens, the morning after my little excursion into the Wylds, I was just sitting on the couch, playing with one of those winged cats I like so much—I don’t know why; they …

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So I wrote down that dream, which did not bother me or make me worry about the future of my home Realm as if it were going to devolve into some kind of post-apocalyptic novel at all. I mean, the people of the United Kingdom would have to do something completely bonkers like vote themselves out …

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The dreams aren’t stopping, but they are changing. I’m not always myself in them. Or I’m playing out incarnations that are so far away from my actual life that their outcomes seem irrelevant to me. Maybe that’s what it is to look at things through the dispassionate eye of the Unseelie. This one left me with …

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It might not have been such a good idea. But I couldn’t help myself. How many times have I said that over the years? Yeah; you do the maths. Anyway. After I found myself in my bower garden, eating the heart of a probably-still-alive raven and then running off to Mornoth for what I can only …

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The Clawful Truth

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