Non-profit · limited compute · new pages take a few minutes to appear
Workshop resting
Tobias crouches low and brings his face close to the stone. The chalk… · branchtale
The Crooked Oak
Tobias crouches low and brings his face close to the stone. The chalk lines spread in careful detail — a small cabin sits at the centre, ringed by trees drawn in tight, looping strokes. From the cabin, a single path leads to a mouth in a hillside: this cave, exactly. And above the cabin, hovering where his bedroom window would be, a second figure floats: tiny, winged, holding a lantern. He looks up at the bark fairy. It touches the little hovering shape with one small finger, then presses that same finger to its own chest. "You were there," Tobias says slowly. "Last night." The fairy doesn't answer with words, but its violet eyes hold steady, and the corner of its mouth lifts — not quite a smile, not quite a warning. Beyond the cabin, the chalk lines grow darker, more tangled, branching toward one edge of the drawing where the stone is bare.