Profile
Celiah Thistlehorne
She/Her
Satyr
Home;;
In the near distance, a vast, worn stone wall stretches endlessly across the land, protecting the town within from the fae. A small log cabin sits nestled between ancient oak trees, twisting and bending as their wooded fingers reach further and further towards the sun. A ring of mushrooms surrounds the cabin and its surrounding yard. The chimney lazily puffs out smoke, sharing the scent of burning pine wood and a hint of potato soup.
Small windows are adorned with pale green curtains, billowing in the gentle breeze. A small pie sets on the window sill to cool, the inhabitant of the house humming softly. Inside, an assortment of magick items scattered haphazardly across shelves and tables, black candles burn steadily among the clutter. A small satyr sits in a cushioned chair, sleepily watching the fire burn. A crow is perched upon the mantle, staring at her with its glowing red eyes. There seems to be tension between the small satyr girl and her new companion.
WIP
