The Isle In The Mist
Sitting on a simply-carved stone throne in the dank darkness, the single frosted eye watches with eager anticipation in the seeing glass as the imprudent mortals talk of her. That same eye gleams in anticipation as it lands upon a little child, wrapped tightly into the lap of a listening mother, then catches sight of the glamour of the dancing water bugs. Wetness drips... [click here for more]