The Broken Toy that Stowed Away....

 

 



You stir beneath your dark slumber...

you raise your head from the velvet of the couch,

as you hear the loneliest of bells toll out...

you have been in the reception room,

of the Sinister Meeting Room so long...

that the sunlight is a dream,

and the ocean is a tune that plays in your head...

you leap as a shadow lamp blows its' light,

and momentary shadows...

disguise the Interlude sign,

 that still sits in the same place...

once it reappears,

you see it has changed...

and that new words upon it now read;

 

'You must stand and jump...

through the fire and sleet,

you must tread out far...

and follow every street,

follow our shadows...

now down the hall,

listen not to the voices that echo...

calling to you through every door,

for you must reach the land where the colours are aged...

where the light endures,

and the horizon draws near...

even as the darkness presses in too,

for to reach the true heart and place...

you must travel a little more.'

 

You get from the couch,

and walk forward beneath the blown light...

you feel yourself surrounded by shadow,

and your heart like ice...

eventually you pass the hall,

and its' ghostly inhabitants and leviathans...

and beneath your feet,

old wooden boards...

replace the carpet there.

 

You travel into night...

beneath glistening faded stars,

you hear the licking...

of water against,

the jetty you move along...

you hear stories,

whispered to you against the wind...

from out there in the void,

as you glimpse your first light and guide.

 

The voices from the water speak...

 

'There are a great many mysteries here,

songs that play at half past one...

through the moaning wind and the pipes that line the jetty,

We knew a boy that used to dwell near here...

he was cursed to appear as a cat,

and sometimes as a monster...

for he had lost his wings you see,

and had been doomed to walk the sands of our shores...

for all of time,

now he has disappeared to us...

for the ocean has taken him,

the ocean has taken him...

and now,

please allow us to introduce your guide...

he is a weathered man,

who sometimes appears more a part o the sea and sky...

than the land.

His eyes are a murky blue...

and at times he will feed upon your deepest of fears,

but he is your only chance...

your only guide,

and follow him and trust...

that he will lead you byy the light.

He answers to the name Kraken...

and you must ensure,

that not once do you look into his eyes...

or allow your back to turn.'

 

Kraken leads you silently...

away from the jetty and the dark sea,

and into a wood drenched from the just-fallen rain...

and with great pools that glint,

from within ornate tree roots...

you are led deeper and deeper into the forest,

and the trees crowd about you more and more...

your head fills with a fogginess,

and at times you lose track...

of where you place your feet,

a lone wolf releases a chilling cry...

and it is only then,

that you realize that the lantern has dimmed...

 almost entirely,

and Kraken has shifted away into the gloom...

 

You stop...

your heart growing colder and colder,

as the night and trees and fear presses in...

and then,

you feel a heat...

scorching your back behind you,

and you turn.

 

There stands Kraken...

though now not a weathered man,

no...

now he hunches beneath a cloak and hood,

the sharpest of smiles cutting across his face...

as he holds fingers that burst with flames,

closer and closer to your skin...

he seizes your wrist,

burning down through your skin...

as he whispers hoarsely to you;

 

'For us to travel further...

you must allow me to mark you as mine,

to be bound to my storms...

my leviathans and to be eaten away by my darkness,

for your fear shall nourish me...

and come Child,

there is no other way forward except through me...

so hold still,

you are already partway mine already...

just look at your wrist.'

 

 

You pull back...

scratch and yell,

and somehow manage to slip your wrist...

safely away from Kraken's fingers,

you sprint away through the woods...

even as the darkness that was a man,

swarms after you...

now just a chaos of tidal waves,

lightning, currents and reaching arms...

and you understand finally,

that Kraken is the boy who lost his wings...

who became something else,

became this.

 

You run and run and run...

until quite suddenly,

you are leaving the forest...

and you are in a field of blue flowers,

beneath the evening moon...

and Kraken has disappeared.

 

 

Their scent fills you...

and as you reach down to grasp a handful,

they reach out to you too...

and blue dreams explode into the air,

you struggle to believe what you see...

or if it is even real,

as the blue become a stream beneath you...

and you are swept away,

away from the woods...

away from the field,

and away from all you know...

you travel past crumbling cities,

and ships made of white bone...

that long ago broke against forgotten shores,

until eventually...

the stream deposits you,

in the most grandest of lagoons...

and it is then that you realise,

that the sky is dark for all but the stars...

and that a monstrous light,

floats upon the water...

in the near distance,

 

Le Jeu (Christian Schloe).

 

The she-Moon turns to gaze at you...

as you drift closer and her eyes blink slow arcs at you,

and then her words are all around you...

slow and Heavenly;

 

'To enter the final heart and place,

you must make a choice now...

allow me to engulf you,

to be devoured here...

and within you shall find,

what you have been searching for...

so long,

the only other option is to wait here...

perhaps Kraken shall find you again,

and perhaps he shall bleed you of everything good...

within.

Make thy choice...

traveller of whim.'

 

You remember again Kraken's burning fingers...

and his promise to mark you as his,

and with no hesitation you swim closer to the she-Moon.

 

Her mouth drops away into  darkness vast and wide...

yet at its' very end,

the smallest of lights flickers there...

you are tugged by a current,

deeper into the heart of the she-Moon...

and closer to the final light.

You past shades of shadow in brown and silver...

and faded tunes that echo incomprehensibly.

 

Then...

of a sudden,

you are there...

cascading out into a whole new world.

The sky here is lilac...

and its' waters divine,

a city glistens on the shore in the distance...

and a ship floats on its' moor,

 

 

 

You realize that you can stay here forever...

that this is your new life,

a world different to the one we know...

without its' jaded personality, horrors and control,

you feel the smallest of wings grow upon your back...

and lift you from the sea,

as you are flown to the shores of your new home...

now you may rest,

and burn the darkness away...

with the light.

 

For a hundred million golden nights hence.

 

 

 

 

 

     Have you ever reached a point in your life, where no matter what your age or circumstances...you know that you and your world must change? I've been feeling the quickening of time since I was very young, and now I know...I must not live like this anymore, I cannot. It must happen soon.

   A new idea has radiated to life within me...something to combine both writing and pastry, and to allow me to work for myself. It is merely a matter of time and Fate. Words have become so powerful...and mayhaps one day they will evolve and transform enough to become actual beings.

 

   We are capable of absolutely anything...if only we could break out of the dream they've locked us in.

 

  Much Love and I hope you too can find your new land.

 

Miss CLScarlett xx

 

P.S. I hear tell that a ship is setting sail next year from the cities' dock, though there are whispers it will leave this Spring for different waters. I have received a message...and it is now apparent to me that I am to attend this voyage, and sail to new horizons.

 

 



Welcome to Silent Hill...

 

 

 

Flowers open

Winter's spoken

The same world but a view has changed

A veil has lifted

The ground has shifted

What you only longed for is here

A moment mends a broken heart

If you'd only known it from the start

The moments form just who we are

You were always here

......

Listen to our words...

and move out into the cold dark.

 

Feel yourself step into the mist...

and become immersed.

 

You have taken the watch within the woods,

smashed it down and dust you took...

and so the words above and tune came to you.

 

For the Sinister Meeting Room has answered you...

 

Come to our halls,

listen to our words...

 

You find yourself walking in a town drenched by rain,

it runs silver trails down mossy walls...

where roosters drink milk,

and gentlemen angels laugh and try to steal Chai Tea...

we put on our wings,

and flickered through the rain...

fleeting grins from dark eyes and pale faces,

my lips bleed red...

and my eyes black,

there's something missing...

there's something missing.

 

By the way...

 

Welcome to Silent Hill.

 

It is here the Sinister Meeting Room has called you too...

uttering your secret name,

you performed the ritual...

and made the vow,

and so you are tied...

entwined,

commanded...

invited,

to attend our night.

 

Step closer if you please dear Sir...

and MadMadam,

to our Bonfire of Ancients...

 

 

It is here we release the souls of the others...

where we cast the lines of our hearts into the dead amber night skyy.

We search and fish for monsters...

so that we may have our souls devoured,

for we cannot stop...

and we cannot stop the hunger,

of them...

and so the monsters devour,

but no...

not you dear traveller,

you shall travel on...

for though your heart is torn apart,

you find yourself moving on...

find yourself erasing and erasing and erasing what is now gone.

 

So that you may continue on...

 

A figure appears from behind the bonfire,

a familiar figure draped in royal purple...

he bows his sharp jaw to you,

the most ferocious of smiles grinning out to you...

and he whispers the following words;

 

'MadMadam, Sir...listen, hush...

come with me.

 

We must travel through Silent Hill...

through the land of Memory Sharks,

leviathans of the deep.

For we wade in that daerkness...

and by the day it grows,

but we bare our laughter like a weapon...

like a match flame,

and we know that we can start an inferno through it.

 

Do not lose yourself to the silence...

for though it draws and haunts,

attaches itself and clings...

it can make a shell of you,

don't let it in...

don't let it in.

But...

Listen.

For the silence appears to me...

as a figure tall and white,

pale as bone in face and skin...

eyes and hair and ice-cold heart,

he comes to me in the night...

and when I walk the streets slowly in the dark,

his hand and claws gripping my shoulders...

and his sharp words in our ears.

 

 

 

I dreamt the other night...

as I sat beside a meadow,

I was upon a highway...

deep in the bush,

in the deep, cold night...

there was no one else,

and on the highway I stood...

and in the distance,

a silver sports car appeared...

it drifted and swerved across the road,

closer and closer towards me...

I leapt for the bushes about the highway,

yet the dream ended before I saw if I was hit.

 

But now...

we must break from the dreams and continue on.

 

We pass beyond the warmth of the bonfire...

until we come to the wayward cliffs and giants of my homeland,

tread the wet sands as though it were glass...

hear the ancient tales the waves hiss to you as they cut into the shore,

Listen to...'

 

The Sea - 'A child once lived here years ago,

his eyes had been the colour of plums back then...

and his heart like a sun,

yet he was in love with a woman...

a woman that appeared from beneath our waters to him,

and who was as white as ice...

her eyes as dark as Hell,

She took him away...

drew him to the beach day by day,

what he knew not however...

was that the woman was dying,

second by second...

and second by second it was infecting him,

his eyes grew from lilac to mist...

Until he could no longer see,

and so we took him,

within...

but,

years later he escaped...

and we no longer know where he lies,

for his light has been hidden from us...

and only our language he took,

to the other end...

now our land is grey,

and storm-ridden.

Without him.'

 

Strange Phenomena - Duy Huynh

 

You follow your guide...

past the lonely lands,

and finally you happen across a peculiar fellow...

playing brass melodies upon a dead tree,

you see the notes of his song...

explode into colour against the grey,

and feel that you are witnessing....

 something forbidden,

it is then as the music twines about you...

that a doorway open by his feet,

descending down deep into the earth...

it is here that your purple-clad guide leads you.

 

You sink into darkness...

and the briefest glint of crystal veins,

built into the earth...

as you travel down a flight of stairs,

and soon an aged light begins to grow...

you follow your guide towards its' warmth,

and see velvet replace the bare stone at your feet...

angels and dragons,

adorn the walls...

mantels made from thousand-year old cedars,

sit beside a raging fireplace...

the smell of spices, chocolate and butter,

drift into the room to you...

while the music of the man above,

seeps through the ground above you...

to your ears.

 

You are shown to an armchair,

beside the fireplace...

surrounded by scrolls,

taxidermy and suites of armour...

and commanded to wait,

your curious guide disappears only briefly...

and when he returns he brings with him a small sign,

placed at the top of a tree-like stand...

he places it on the table before you,

along with a tray of hot chocolate, croissants...

strawberries and cream,

and he bows low to you,

he utters not a word...

yet the briefest of sly winks,

before he spins around twice...

and disappears in a cloud of lilac smoke.

 

You frown confused,

yet comfortable in your seat...

and you lean forward to better read the sign;

 



You turn the sign around...

and glimpse the following words,

written in trailing ink;

 

'The Sinister Meeting Room has entered an interlude,

and you dear traveller shall be required to wait...

you may dwell here within our reception room,

dined by the clock...

and cocktails when the hour is late,

or if you so wish...

you may say the words,

'Rentaire Bellarre'...

After which you will seize the knife,

 beside the bottle of wine...

and stab thyself through the reflection nearby,

hung upon our wall...

only then can you be free.'

 

 

'An interlude...

if you please,

of five and three quarter minutes and hours.'

 

The choice...is now yours.

 

 

 

 

 

    We rarely see things as they actually are...like the other day. I was walking down the road and stepped into a puddle, and instantly I was sucked down into an ocean. The puddle wasn't a puddle...it was an ocean.

 

   Things tick away at me, and ever since that puddle the water has invaded and risen in my house to almost the edge of my bed. I look over the edge sometimes...and see the fish and small sharks; the large jellyfish that often float close enough near to me each night to leave cuts on my body. We are learning to breathe underwater, yet I hope we can achieve such a thing before the water covers my head...before the end.

 

   Each night the taps drip, and I can't turn them off...because I don't have hands, because I left them somewhere when I was still awake...and not sleeping. Again. Damn bloody hands, always disappearing. Maybe one day I'll chain them to my wrists. Anyone else out there have problems with their hands?

 

  Much Love,

 

Miss CLScarlett xx 

 

 



 

 



Your Dispraportionate Gaze...

Katherine Skye

 

 

You are in a field...

an aged wind is blowing.

You hear nothing...

but the thud of grass blade against blade,

and a whistling far away...

deep in the forest ahead of you,

you stare into the lilac gloom...

feel the last heat of the day touching your shoulders,

and quite suddenly...

you hear music,

the smallest of lively tunes...

jaunty and haunting in lure,

it calls to you and you walk into the woods....

 

You travel on,

through echoing darks...

and a chaos of tangled vines,

you reach a clearing...

beside a stream,

silent and grey...

and beside it stands a man,

who leans against a tall bar table...

upon which rests a gramophone.

He turns to look at you...

as the music warbles on,

and you see his wolf-like eyes glint...

beneath the glass lenses he wears,

A feathered hat sits at an angle on his head...

and a fine royal purple coat,

 drapes his shoulders...

he grins the smallest of canine grin,

and lifts a lavender teacup...

to his lips,

for a drink.

 

 

He offers you a silent salute...

and then whispers these words to you;

 

'A day is coming,

soon...

soon.

Our time is slipping away to ashes...

and burning the fine leather off our souls,

we watch the storms gather...

and we break the glass amidst the rain,

but...

I have a message to give to you,

for you see...

the Sinister Meeting Room,

has sent me unto thee...

so heed.

We are falling slowly...

and with it our hearts,

and we are waiting for the blade...

but,

it is an...

invitation of sorts,

that I bring from your comrades...

at the Sinister Meeting Room.'

 

'A day or two hence,

thee must wait for the deepest of darkness...

be it shadow or gloom,

blackness of storm or night...

delve within it,

and take with you an old watch,

and watch your clock...

wait for the loudest,

most slow tick...

and stamp upon the ground,

bring up the dust...

and chant the words;

'Live me...

Live they.'

Close thy eyes and spin around...

Open them again and throw the watch down,

smash it beneath thy feet...

and wait for,

the Sinister Meeting Room's call.'

 

The man whispers to you...

tThat all we really are is white elephants,

we tiptoe about trying to hide the greatness within us...

when really we are elephants,

meant to be magnificent...

and free,

and beautiful...

and intelligent,

yet even now...

a murk has invaded our land,

and we must ward our minds against it.

 

Wait for the call...

and watch not the hours,

but the tender gears and cogs of our clocks...

and may we reach everything before our world,

crumbles.

 

For a day is coming,

soon...

soon.'

 

  That particular tale is devoted to the curious character I met in the strangest of bars...far away in a forest. We wait, and we watch and we listen.

   I hope you are all flying ahead of your storm, with the wind behind you and new wings upon your back. Take it away.

   Much Love,

     Miss CLScarlett xx



 

 

 

The Whisper in the Deep Blue...



We stand on the cliff edge...

stare into the swirling abyss,

we scream into the wind and storm...

we fall to our knees,

beat our hands until they bleed...

until there's nothing left ,

but bleeding bones and silt...

 

We dreamt that our wings were torn off,

and that barbed ropes,

were placed about our wrists...

we were paraded and possessed,

they fed our memories...

to the memory sharks.

 

We differentiate between madness...

and chaos,

and in the end...

whose the clown?

 

One night past ten...

I heard the call,

heard the Rain Wolf Relshka...

madly howl through a crack in the door.

 

 

 

I went out into the pouring rain...

hid myself in the shadows and mint,

and repeated my name backwards...

I dug in the wet soil,

and cracked my fingers against the stone...

tore up the moss-worn roots,

and dislodged all the stones... 

I found something that glinted silver,

and the briefest shades of blue...

a case with the symbol of a seahorse,

rusted and cold as ice...

dirty in hue.

 

I saw Relshka materialise...

out of the rain and wind,

I saw him bow his head to me...

and his eyes glowing faded green,

he bade me open the box...

Within and laid against timber,

stood a teacup...

a bowl of sand,

and a clock...

I looked up to ask,

what they were for...

what I should do,

yet already the breeze had whisked him away.

 

I knew however...

what had to be done,

I threw the sand...

into the blizzard within the teacup,

and dropped the timepiece inside...

I stared into the depths of that wilderness,

and saw some images on the sly...

 

 

 

A growling that rose from beneath the ground,

a single brown feather...

lost in the grey dirt,

a million small boats...

lost in a raging cyclone,

and the stripped leaves of an Oak tree.

 

All are swept away...

in the ashes of the wind.

 

True Time.

Chime...

 

We are lost...

we weaved a space through the cosmos,

and hammered out patterns in the Heaven's...

we built bridges through the dimensions,

and held council with celestial beings...

The Sun burnt symbol's upon our hearts,

and our bones were ground to dust...

we wore the cloaks,

of disillusion-unwise...

and despaired,

even as we persevered...

through our swamps.

 

We answered the call long ago...

and sometimes we wish,

that we had had the strength...

to cut our ears from us,

when we found out...

what was coming.

 

There was however...

no stopping it,

and time has a hand...

in our lives.

 

So we dance and dancedancedancedance....

 

A mouse opened its' eye,

a great Queen decided to cry...

a myth became a terror,

and the strangest of hands...

have choked us dead.

Now we are the river.

 

 

 

 

 

  I work, write and sleep each day away...right now I'm staring at and feeling a world of trees. Trees made from golden and green light and a wind that sounds like the ocean.

 

   One day very very soon...I'm going to be free of all these shackles. Free to live my life in a different way.

   My book becoming published has been put on hold for now, until I can afford the cost of getting the story professionally proofread.

 

   I hope you are all finding peace of some kind today.

 

go ripzinma oxpsu... (New Rubaleen)

 

 

 

  I love you all....

 

 

Miss CLScarlett xx

 



Black Butterflies...

The Winter Trail has Ended...

 

 

I follow the Autumn leaves,

down the pale road...

and I see mirrors in the buildings,

by my side...

 

In some it shows,

not me...

not our now-daerk eyes,

no...

it shows faces,

millions of other faces...

strange grey beaches,

where black-haired creatures crawl...

where the ocean sings softly,

through the jetties...

where houses warped by time and salt,

hum with a thousand tiny bells...

Cruel lands where man, woman and child,

were caught in a waking dream...

and lost.

 

 

I turn from the mirrors,

travel on...

past empty rooms,

and lonely songs...

one tune I follow up an alleyway,

I glimpse a gramophone...

old and dusty,

and the wink of bright eyes...

hidden behind,

a hear the softest of mad drumbeats...

and the slinky movement of a figure,

there in the shadows...

the wicked grin of wolf teeth.

We flee from the alley...

and out onto the street,

We walk on...

we feel the hearts,

decaying in our chests...

and we wrap time closely about us,

and rest.

The morrow day...
we strap on our wings...
stand up in the cold dawn,
and draw our swords...
we grin our crooked smiles,
into the howling wind of sunrise...
raise our feathers wide,
and leap into the gold.

 

 

 

  Set free the Black Butterflies dearests...

 

Much Love,

   Always...

 

Miss CLScarlett xx

 



The Labyrinth of Your Chaos

 

Lost in the labyrinth of your chaos...

 

I stand and listen to the steam train in the distance,

it comes for me and I wait...

 

I see the leaves crawling with the wind,

and the dust tracing patterns in the souls of my shoes...

 

I see the ocean always crazy and steaming now,

roaring louder by the day and invading my street...

 

I listen to the beasts of this labyrinth,

roar and shriek...

 

I listen to them eat.

 

I took his hand the other night...

and raced through a million rooms,

now I board the steam train of disillusion...

 

I travel the rails to a distant noon,

But before the long lines...

before I let the world fade behind me,

one more stop the conductor says...

 

I leave the train one last time,

for a month...

maybe two,

I toil beneath the ground...

and in emptiness,

before I break these iron shackles...

board the train,

glue on my wings...

take off my shoes,

and allow my hair to become blue once more.

 

The steam train leaves...

and finally arrives at a dock,

it whistles me across the ocean...

as my mind unravels into,

the land of the everlasting noon.

 

Much Love,

   Miss CLScarlett xx

 

The Devourer and the Broken Ocean...

 

 

 

No Fear...

 

We were called,

late one Tuesday passed...

and we came.

 

From our awnings...

 and between the cracks in the buildings,

dragging our limbs up and out...

of the mud of the earth,

we open our black and leaking eyes...

and turn in the direction of the call.

 

The streets of this city are battered dusk...

and the weapons they trail and hide,

they plan to plunge into our hearts...

we walk the ice,

hear it crack and break beneath us...

and our bones splintering astep,

a great fog has taken this land...

its' people and us,

we both grow far...

 

It is the sickness of brain,

a bog of thoughts...

we fear it will consume,

us tonight...

if we do not answer the call.

 

We follow it to an alley by the docks...

and the sea water laps at our feet,

centuries ago it flooded these streets...

grew mould upon the cobblestones,

and allowed the ocean monsters a gateway in...

We see a gnarled figure with long long teeth standing,

beside a pipe that rises from the docks...

ankle deep in water,

he beckons to us...

in a voice like the thunder and soot.

 

'Wingless Children...

of mud and bone,

we waited...

as long as could be waited,

as the ocean's devoured each other...

and the wind devoured them,

as everything devoured everything else...

I thought to devour you too,

but now you see...

there is nothing left in this world,

for us to devour...

and we would allow you to pass,

if only to find someone still with light...

so that we may devour it.

We sense it...

the last light,

waiting across and beneath the sea...

for we cannot tolerate it,

and must create the last piece of darkness of it instead,

of thisss....

we have decided.'

 

 

 

My Brethren and I...

we stole past the gnarled figure,

felt his claws and long teeth press against and taste us...

a million hands where we saw only one.

We descended into the pipe...

and deep down,

 beneath the darkness of the sea...

all sound cut off,

but for the murmuring...

and the press of alien limbs,

 against the tunnel we now found ourselves in...

We bound ourselves together,

and travelled forward...

into the weaving shadows,

and towards the light we could sense...

pressing against our heart.

 

We travelled for aeons...

for days and centuries and seconds,

and bit by bit...

the walls of the dark tunnel told us stories of the world.

 

They told us of twelve islands,

between two dark shores...

they told us of a sickness that had taken that land,

of how it once had shone like the sun...

its' lands garnished with gems,

and richness of earth...

marvellous creatures,

that wove and sung...

Kings and Queens that rose and fell,

legends and hopes...

that faded as the sickness crept more,

yet now all lies barren and wounded...

except that which we seek to hold,

and carry back to our destroyer...

for him to drink deep of its' soul.

 

[santosmulder.tumblr.com]

 

 

Eventually we found the light...

in the furthest nook,

of the smallest end of the tunnel...

The tiniest of golden birds,

glimmering with light...

inside a black cage.

 

We took the last light...

within our twisted hands,

and stole back the way we had come...

we fell in love ,

with its' colour and life...

we thought perhaps he would let it go,

That we would be allowed to keep it.

 

We were naïve...

we were so foolish,

We crept out of the pipe...

and handed to the gnarled figure,

the last light...

the tormentor dug its' teeth deep,

into the birds' neck...

we saw its' light trailing out,

and felt the world and us...

sinking with it,

 

We knew that once he'd finished...

he'd drink from us as well,

bring us to our knees...

while whispering endearing words.

So we waited for our death.

 

 

 

It was then however...

that the devourer he froze,

and time began to unwind...

we saw cracks begin to appear,

upon his face and hands...

a pulsing golden light,

dripped forth from between the fractures...

and piece by piece,

he crumbled into dust.

 

It was so quick...

and it was so sudden,

and even as dying the devourer lashed out at us...

he killed some of us,

and tore out the centre of my heart...

The last light overcame him,

and became the most fiercest of stars...

when at last the devourer lay dying,

and we saw the darkness begin to creep away...

we felt our weights,

falling off...

and the most colourful of scales,

slide there instead.

 

 

 

We are creatures of the eternal star now...

and we find our strength returning every day,

we watch the monsters return to their depths...

and the land begins to sing once more.

 

 

 

 

   Hey there dear creatures,

 

    I have been nibbled away by the leviathans and Krakens of Huntington. Now he takes the form of a being I knew...and still he won't let me go. Hope you are all conquering your own leviathans.

 

 

   Much Love,

 

Miss CLScarlett xx