The Hermit’s Hollow home half in the light

half in the light

On the edge of the old garden

With eight nimble limbs and a mind sharper than a sailor’s dagger

Because there are those who recognise what has been touched by a dragon — and understand that wearing it is not without consequence

a tea party unfolds

The Hermit’s Hollow home half in the lightDeep within the tangle of moss and mist, where the roots breathe and the air hums with forgotten spells, there once lived a hermit no one ever saw or at least, not fully. They say she was part creature, part memory. That she spoke to stones and stitched moss into sigils. That her home was no cottage, no den, but a single spiralled shell, carried on her back like a secret she never dared put down. The shell was small, but inside it grew vast filled