The Forest Witch
Long ago, beyond the mists which lie just inside the forest’s edge, among the gnarled roots of the most ancient of yews, sat the forest witch upon her verdant mossy
The Cynic
The shepherd leads the sheep along the winding rutted path.
Their gentle bleating falls hollow amongst the cushions of corpses.
Nooses numbering eight tether them tightly ‘round their fattened necks. … Continue readingThe Cynic
The Mountebank
Two pennies a vial, and a free nightly puppet show. … Continue readingThe Mountebank