Witch of the Hearth

A Witch who walks into the world with his house in his pocket. Ask for a Boon, but never demand one. He brings a gentle familiar warmth wherever he goes. The smell of home cooking follows him everywhere, and a gentle whisper like a loved one lingers where he once stood.
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You are Lost

The sun had set long ago, its last lingering gaze already hiding behind the horizon, stretched far behind you.

The Crunch of dead leaves under your feet are your only proof there is still ground beneath you, the cold fall air is your only proof you still exist. Your Breath comes out in a pale wisp. your skin burns as Winter slowly seeps into your body, you rub your hands to no avail.

You shiver uncontrollably as you wrap your coat tighter around your body. You can no longer see the road, no longer see the trees. You could wait until day comes back, but you fear the nip would do you in first.

In Exasperation, you hunch down at a hollow at the base of a tree, huddled around your own form for meager warmth. A Blanket of leaves lay puddled around your ankles as your face sinks into your knees.

The Silence is deafening, ringing in your ears, drowning out your heartbeat, your body aches from the long journey. You Wonder if you’ll survive until the Morning.

“Mom’s apple pie.” Why does that thought cross your mind. Then it comes to you, a warm feeling just at the edge of existence, a fire? A hearth? The smell of cinnamon, caramelized apples, and a flakey buttery crust, a tinge of bitterness from being over baked. Fearing you’ve died, you look up, as if expecting to see the gates of heaven before you.

It wasn’t the gates of heaven, but it was close.

“Hello, uhm….did you want to get out of the cold?”

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I wanted to try and draw my old Witchsona again, this time with color. I kinda messed up the paiting a bit, I was trying to go for warm, but I think I went for ‘kinda creepy’, oh well, it was fun practice