Just started a little story (because God knows I don't have enough WIPs atm) about a guy who started life as a changeling who was dumped into the cradle of a family to replace a stolen child. The changelings don't usually live that long, but due to certain factors, he did.
I decided he was carved out of the wood of a birch tree when he was first made, and although he's taken on a lot of attribute of humans, that still plays a part in who he is. I've also decided that people around him don't quite see him as independent person with feelings and autonomy, despite how much he wishes they did.
Pinocchio.
I just realized I'm writing fucking Pinocchio.













