The GreenWitch
It is another rainy day here in Thorney Burrow. But nothing detracts the GreenWitch from her duties. Click, click, click go her needles, knitting branch after stem, after flower, nature abundant weaves and tangles around her, the woods reign supreme in her world, places of magick and imagination. Is that rustle a fox, or something more mystical, a being created of the Earth herself, green and brown breathing out the perfumes of soil and herb. . .
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