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Artwork becomes story
Original fantasy artwork with whimsical, funny and occasionally grown-up stories built around it.
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The Bath Time Rebellion Dragons, as you may know, are not typically creatures of hygiene. They’re more “roll in ashes and singe your eyebrows” than “minty fresh and sparkling clean.” But then there was Crispin, the hatchling with scales ...
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A Dragonling with Too Much Juice Long before kingdoms rose and fell, and even before humanity figured out how to weaponize wine into bad karaoke, there exist...
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In a garden that didn’t technically exist on any map, but still insisted on blooming anyway, there stood a single rosebush of impossible beauty. Its petals w...
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The Day the Twins Discovered Trouble (and Each Other) On the morning the mountain sneezed, two baby dragons blinked awake beneath a quilt of warm moss and qu...
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A Hatchling’s Complaint The rain had been falling for hours, and if you asked the little dragon about it (which no one did, since no one else was brave—or fo...
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Shards, Smoke, and a Bad Attitude The egg didn’t so much hatch as declare war on complacency. It split with the sound of a wineglass meeting a tiled floor af...
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The Hug Heard 'Round the Forest There once lived a gnome named Brambletug who had two core beliefs: that all creatures secretly longed for his affection, and...
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How Not to Kidnap a Dragon It all started on a perfectly average Tuesday—which in Twizzlethorn Wood meant mushroom hail, upside-down rain, and a raccoon wear...
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Moss, Mirth, and Misinformation “You know it’s rude to drool on royalty.” The voice was lilting and sharp, like laughter carried by a cold stream. The dragon...
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There are fae who tend gardens. There are fae who weave dreams. And then there’s Fennella Bramblebite—whose main contributions to the Seelie realm are chaoti...
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Tongue Wars and the Forest Code of Sass In the deepest thicket of the Glibbergrove, where mushrooms grew big enough to get parking tickets and squirrels wore...
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The Temper of Twigsnap Hollow It was the first crisp day of autumn in Twigsnap Hollow, and that meant three things: the leaves were aflame with color, the sq...
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In the deepest corner of the Mistwillow Woods — somewhere between the Glade of Passive-Aggressive Mushrooms and the Barking Fern Grove — sat a dragon. Not ju...
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The Fire-Bird and the Fang-Fool Deep in the Whisperwood, where trees mutter rumors about squirrels and moss throws shade like a drag queen at brunch, lived a...
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The World’s Most Inconvenient Miracle The dragon was not supposed to exist. At least, that’s what they told Elira back in the Overgrown Library, between must...
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