Little Naita

A Fairy Song

Over hill, over dale,

Thorough bush, thorough brier,

Over park, over pale,

Thorough flood, thorough fire!

I do wander everywhere,

Swifter than the moon's sphere;

And I serve the Fairy Queen,

To dew her orbs upon the green;

The cowslips tall her pensioners be;

In their gold coats spots you see;

Those be rubies, fairy favours;

In those freckles live their savours;

I must go seek some dewdrops here,

And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.

--William Shakespeare

Little Naita is a custom Faerie. 

Aoife & Finvarra

Finvarra was King of the faeries before he was changed into an owl by a jealous forest spirit who had fallen in love with the beautiful Queen Aoife. Together with his queen, Finvarra travels in search of a way to brake the spell so that they may return to the great hall of the Daoine Sidhe where he will once more hold his court.

Aiofe and Finvarra will be available in my etsy shop tonight at 5PM (PST). They are $725 (USD) plus shipping. 

The Moss Maiden

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The moss maiden moves silently through the forest, between ancient cedars that stand like sentinels.

She is looking for a place that only she knows, where the emerald moss whispers a particular song.

This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks,
Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight,
Stand like Druids of old, with voices sad and prophetic... 

--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, From Introduction to Evangeline 

Her steps are light as she glides across the densely carpeted forest floor.

It is her task to gather the softest moss, tiny filaments of striking green, that sing the forest's oldest song, and weave with them a gift for each new faerie babe.

As she works she sings the forest's song, and whispers ancient faerie blessings, weaving words and delicate mossy tendrils into a resplendent blanket.  

This is the oldest magic, for while a faerie babe sleeps beneath the mossy blanket lulled by the forest's ancient song, she dreams the story of the world, as she rocks in her cradle.

This is how it's aways been, the moss maiden knows.