sarcastic owl

by Bill Tiepelman

The Featherlight Guardian

Of Mushrooms, Mayhem, and a Very Unimpressed Owl Deep within the Verdant Verge—a forest so enchanted it once accidentally turned a lumberjack into a pinecone—perched a creature of such delicate fluff and sarcastic judgment that even the fairies feared her side-eye. She was the Featherlight Guardian. Not *a* guardian. The Guardian. Capital T. Capital Attitude. Her name was Mabel, and she was an owl. Well, technically. If you asked her, she’d tell you she was “a divine combination of ethereal fluff, guardian-grade wisdom, and naturally curled lashes that don't require enhancement, thank you very much.” With feathers dipped in hues of midnight blue, scandalous scarlet, and a yellow that could make the sun insecure, Mabel wasn’t just a sight—she was a statement. Her giant sapphire eyes had seen a thousand moons, a few awkward forest rituals, and at least one very embarrassing wizard duel involving a misfired glitter spell. Mabel’s job—her sacred duty—was to guard the Heart of the Forest: a magical glen containing the roots of every tree, a lot of bioluminescent frogs with drama issues, and one eternally simmering cauldron that brewed the mood of the forest itself. She took this duty seriously. Which is why, when a band of bumbling, slightly tipsy mushroom hunters stomped into her glen one moonlit Tuesday, she let out a sigh so heavy, it shook the canopy. One of the hunters—whose name was either Jasper or Disappointment, she wasn’t sure—tried to pet her. Pet her. “I am not a therapy fluff-ball,” she hooted, unimpressed. “Touch me again and I’ll introduce your eyebrows to fireflies with boundary issues.” The hunters giggled and carried on, picking glow-shrooms with the elegance of drunk raccoons. Mabel narrowed her eyes. The Heart of the Forest was reacting—glowing brighter, pulsing faster. She could feel it—a brewing mood swing. The last time it felt like this, a tree grew upside-down and quoted Shakespeare for a month. With a whip of her rainbow-feathered wings and a dramatic sigh worthy of a soap opera priestess, Mabel fluttered down from her perch. It was time to fix this. Again. Because that’s what guardians do. But this time, she had a plan. A devious, glitter-laced, sass-infused plan that just might teach these mushroom marauders a lesson they’d never forget. Mabel smirked, her massive eyes twinkling with mischief and just a hint of vengeance. “Let the chaotic enlightenment begin,” she whispered. Glitter, Karma, and an Owl’s Slightly Vengeful Redemption Arc Now, you may be wondering: what exactly does a glitter-laced, sass-infused plan look like? Well, if you’ve ever seen an owl enchant a fungus with sentience and a flair for passive-aggressive poetry, you’re halfway there. Mabel, flapping her impossibly elegant wings, swooped toward the cauldron in the glen—the one that brewed the emotional weather of the entire forest. She whispered something ancient and slightly petty into it. The brew shimmered. The frogs croaked in falsetto. The trees leaned in. Moments later, the glen shifted. Not violently. Oh no—Mabel preferred her vengeance subtle. The mushroom hunters, who moments before were giggling and plucking things that should definitely not be plucked, paused as the forest suddenly... responded. The mushrooms started glowing in synchronized color waves. Purple. Green. Chartreuse, if you're feeling fancy. A low hum began to rise from the soil—like an a capella group warming up beneath your feet. The drunkest hunter, whose name was Chad (they always are), blinked and said, “Dude, is the dirt singing?” “Yes, Chad,” Mabel muttered from a nearby tree. “The dirt is singing, and it hates your cargo shorts.” Then, one by one, the mushrooms sprang to life. Not aggressively—no, this wasn’t that kind of story. They simply became dramatic. The largest of them stretched upward, took a deep, unnecessary breath, and announced in iambic pentameter: “Fair forest friends, these fools do treadWhere sacred roots and balance wed.Their grubby hands, their clueless cheer—Shall reap the karma growing here.” The mushroom hunters froze. Chad dropped his glow-shroom and tried to whisper, “We’re tripping,” but the mushrooms shushed him in chorus. Mabel, now perched on a branch above the glen, flared her wings like a drama teacher at a school for troubled fairies. She spoke with measured gravitas. “Welcome, mortals. You have disturbed the glen of harmony, disrupted the shrooms of sentiment, and insulted my feathers with your lack of personal grooming.” “...We were just looking for snacks,” whimpered Jasper-Probably-Disappointment. Mabel sighed, but there was something softer beneath it this time. “You silly bipeds. The forest isn’t your snack aisle. It’s alive. It feels. It gets moody. Like me. But with fewer accessories.” A hush fell over the glen. Even the frogs were quiet, save for one who softly hummed “Greensleeves” for ambiance. Mabel fluttered down to eye level, enormous sapphire gaze locking onto the mushroomers like a velvet curse. “You have one chance,” she said. “Apologize to the mushrooms, clean up your mess, and make a vow to leave this forest better than you found it. Or I unleash the moss with legs. And let me tell you, it chases.” There was, understandably, a lot of apologizing. One of the hunters even offered to start a composting blog. Mabel remained skeptical, but allowed them to flee, escorted by a parade of disapproving woodland creatures and one passive-aggressive fern. When the glen settled again, Mabel returned to her perch. The Heart of the Forest dimmed to a soft golden glow. The mood had reset. The mushrooms resumed their usual level of aloof wisdom, muttering sonnets under their breath. And Mabel? She tucked her wings in, gave her feathers a fluff, and said to herself, “Still got it.” She wasn’t just a guardian. She was a vibe. Up in the trees, the moon winked behind a lazy swirl of clouds, and the forest sighed—a little lighter, a little wiser. All under the watchful eyes of its sassiest, fluffiest, most fabulous protector: the Featherlight Guardian. The End. Or maybe the beginning of a new plan. You never know with Mabel.     ✨ Bring Mabel Home Whether you're decorating your cozy reading nook, plotting forest justice from your desk, or just love the idea of a sarcastic owl watching over your space—The Featherlight Guardian is available in enchanting formats to suit your style. Adorn your walls with her wisdom via a wood print or shimmering metal print, snuggle up with her sass on a charming throw pillow, or let her perch in your thoughts with a magical spiral notebook. Bring a little mischief and magic into your everyday—because let’s be honest, Mabel would expect nothing less.

by Bill Tiepelman

The Enchanted Owlfly

In the forgotten corner of a forest where the mushrooms grew weird, the animals cursed freely, and the trees groaned about their root pain, there lived a strange little creature known as the Owlfly. To be fair, he looked like a regular owl—well, except for the fact that he had enormous butterfly wings instead of the usual feathery ears. And as anyone who met him would say, he was a bit… eccentric. The Owlfly, or Ollie as he preferred to be called, was famous (or infamous, depending on who you asked) for two things: his enormous, ridiculously adorable eyes and his mouth, which was anything but adorable. In fact, it was downright foul. Ollie could curse like a sailor, and he knew it. This wasn’t just a creature of whimsy; this was a tiny menace with wings, big eyes, and an arsenal of insults sharp enough to fell a tree. One fine (or mediocre, as Ollie would say) morning, he perched himself on his favorite branch, fluffing up his delicate butterfly-winged ears. "Bloody hell," he muttered as he glanced around, squinting in disgust at the nearby forest critters who were doing their usual nonsense. Squirrels, as far as he was concerned, were nature’s most annoying little bastards. Ollie and the Squirrelly Scuffle Sure enough, a squirrel came bouncing up the tree, chittering at him as if it owned the place. Ollie fixed it with a glare, his big eyes narrowing. "Oh, for crying out loud, can’t you fluff-tailed nut-chompers find another tree to infest? This branch is reserved for the enchantingly foul-mouthed, which I believe is just me." The squirrel, oblivious to Ollie’s surly attitude, skittered closer, clutching an acorn like it was a precious gem. "Bugger off!" Ollie squawked, his wings flaring out in a colorful display. "Do I look like I give two hoots about your precious acorn collection? Go bury that thing somewhere else before I use it as target practice." The squirrel blinked at him, apparently unfazed, then gave an almost mocking twitch of its tail before scampering off, leaving Ollie muttering curses under his breath. "Blasted rodents… they think they own the bloody forest. They don’t pay rent; they don’t even have the courtesy to bring snacks." As Ollie grumbled to himself, a curious blue butterfly landed beside him, blinking its large eyes at him. "Ah, great. Just what I need—a winged insect with no sense of personal space," Ollie mumbled, but the butterfly just fluttered its wings and stared at him. The Bewildering Butterfly The butterfly seemed to be trying to tell him something, but all Ollie could see were its antennae waggling like it was auditioning for a disco show. "Look, pal, I don’t speak butterfly," Ollie said, flicking his own winged ears dismissively. "So unless you’ve got something to say in plain Forest Common, I suggest you flutter along." But the butterfly didn’t move. It kept flapping its delicate wings, doing a sort of odd dance. Ollie squinted, tilting his head. "Oh, for the love of moss and mushrooms—fine, let’s get this over with. What are you on about, bug?" Finally, the butterfly leaned in, as if about to reveal the secrets of the universe, then whispered, "You have a leaf stuck to your butt." Ollie froze, his massive eyes widening. "Excuse me?" He twisted around and, to his horror, realized the butterfly was right—a rogue leaf was clinging to his fluffy posterior, a most undignified accessory. "Oh, you cheeky little winged tattletale!" he hissed, yanking the leaf off and flicking it away. The butterfly snickered, fluttering back. "Careful there, Ollie. Your bark is bigger than your bite." “Says the insect who gets eaten by birds for a living,” Ollie snapped back. “Keep flapping, you blue nuisance, before I forget I’m supposed to be enchanted and start a little butterfly buffet!” A Meeting with the Forest Fairy Just as Ollie settled back down, a flash of light appeared in the nearby bush. “Oh, what now?” he grumbled, rolling his eyes. Out from the foliage came a tiny forest fairy, her wings glittering like broken glass. She looked entirely too cheerful for Ollie’s taste. “Good morning, Ollie!” she chimed, smiling wide. “Good is a relative term,” Ollie replied, his tone as dry as dead leaves. “What are you here for? Let me guess—another one of your forest ‘blessings’? Last time you tried that, I was sneezing glitter for a week.” The fairy chuckled. “Oh, come on! I just wanted to remind you of your purpose. You are the Enchanted Owlfly, after all!” Ollie snorted. “Yeah, yeah. Guardian of the forest, voice of wisdom, yadda yadda. Look, Glimmer, I’m just here to keep idiots like that squirrel from getting too cozy. And maybe to scare off a few humans if they wander too close. I’m not some holy-winged guru here to sing the praises of trees.” “But Ollie,” she cooed, undeterred, “You have the heart of a true guardian!” “Glimmer, I’d sell that ‘true guardian’ heart for a decent nap and a day free of leaf-clingers, squirrels, and chatty fairies,” he replied, flapping his butterfly wings with annoyance. The Owlfly's Wisdom (or Lack Thereof) The fairy sighed, putting her hands on her hips. “Ollie, maybe try being nicer. You might even enjoy yourself for once.” Ollie rolled his eyes so hard they nearly spun out of his head. “Listen, sparkle-wings, if I wanted to enjoy myself, I’d take a nap somewhere quiet—maybe under a rock where the squirrels can’t find me.” But Glimmer just shook her head, clearly unfazed. “You’ll see, Ollie. Someday, you’ll embrace your purpose.” She gave him a final, twinkling smile and fluttered off, leaving him grumbling to himself. “Embrace my purpose, she says. My purpose is to keep this forest from descending into absolute chaos, and that’s a full-time job as it is,” he muttered, puffing himself up in annoyance. A Heart of (Reluctant) Gold Despite his crass exterior and foul-mouthed rants, Ollie did care, just a little, for his odd little patch of forest. Sure, he’d insult the squirrels, curse at the butterflies, and ignore the fairies, but if a predator dared threaten his quirky woodland neighbors, he’d be the first to swoop down with his mighty wings (and even mightier insults) to chase them off. As he settled down for a nap, grumbling about the usual nonsense, he muttered, “Bloody enchanted forest… can’t even get a moment’s peace.” But just before he closed his eyes, he heard a soft chitter from above. Looking up, he saw that pesky squirrel again, holding a tiny pile of acorns next to his branch. “Oh, for… You again?” Ollie groaned. The squirrel pushed the acorns closer, a tentative peace offering. Ollie huffed but grabbed one with a flick of his claw. “Fine, fine. But don’t think this makes us friends, you fuzzy little nut-hoarder.” As he nibbled on the acorn, he sighed. “Maybe this forest isn’t so bad after all.” With that, the enchanted, grumpy, and ever-foul-mouthed Owlfly drifted off to sleep, his butterfly wings fluttering softly in the breeze, his heart reluctantly full.     Bring "The Enchanted Owlfly" into Your Home Add a touch of whimsy, charm, and a bit of crass humor to your space with products featuring "The Enchanted Owlfly." Perfect for those who appreciate nature with a side of sass, these items are designed to bring a smile to your face (or a snarky grin, like Ollie’s). Tapestry - Transform any room with the vibrant colors and whimsical design of the Enchanted Owlfly, a piece that’s sure to spark conversation. Throw Pillow - Cozy up with Ollie! This throw pillow will add a fun, magical touch to your couch or reading nook. Puzzle - Dive into the details of this enchanting artwork with a puzzle that's as fun as Ollie is foul-mouthed. Perfect for a quiet, cozy night in! Tote Bag - Take the Owlfly with you wherever you go! This stylish tote is perfect for carrying your essentials (and maybe a few snacks for the squirrels). Explore the full collection on our shop to bring a little bit of the enchanted forest into your life.