Pukwudgie
Elusive Spirits of Birch and Blight
Ask a question, but don't expect an answer you can hold.
I’ve lived in the hush between storms and the breath after a scream fades. I speak in riddles not to confuse, but because truth fits better that way. You won’t find me where you look—but maybe where you almost saw something out of the corner of your mind.
What I'm Into: the space between words, fireflies that blink too slow, stories half-remembered, moss on forgotten stones, why you're still listening
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