#aforestwalk

[infinitesimal-oblivion]

and they ask me, with audacity in their lungs, “do you remember the sun?” do I remember the sun? what a foolish question. it’s like asking the river if she knows the rocks, the ocean if it knows the dark, the forest if it knows its hart. oh yes, I remember the sun and all her beauty and terror and woolen spun. and she is in my veins, like the stars are in your eyes. gold ichor, your kind mistook mine for holy. they did not ask why the fairy tale is Grimm. or realize that we’re speaking lessons, not wishes, not hymn. and so they wander the woods looking for something they can call home. oh young, young soul... return back to what you’ve known. this place is not yours to own.

[infinitesimal-oblivion]

actually, no, wait I have a wonderful idea to start this blog/s

AKA: I have a minor gripe with something and I kind of want to speak to it, you know?

regardless, why is it that the main posts I see under the “faekin” tag is like... fairies? no shame to the more modern day versions of them (i.e. Tinkerbell), I actually quite like them myself, they’re just not what I’m kin w/. so... where do the faekin that are closer to the older tales go? I’m curious if there’s even more than a handful out there? (I know, I know, curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back!)

I just think it’s an odd observation, is all. I can tell you for certain, however, that I do not remember being tiny or cute or any thing of that nature. I do remember my antlers, many eyes, my teeth, and the kind of quiet watching from afar.