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![[CLOSED] Seasonal Witches: Trill Dew](http://d.furaffinity.net/art/fankbones/1755623501/1755623324.fankbones_весенняя_ведьма.jpg "Click to change the View")
The naked version:
Here: https://x.com/FankBones/status/1957657608875307153
Or here: https://bsky.app/profile/fankbones....../3lwq2ghm4v22a
She appears on the night when the last snow melts into rivers and the first drop of dew trembles on a newborn blade of grass. Her hair flows like a misty dawn, and her eyes shimmer like thawing puddles catching the new sun.
Trill Dew is the witch of awakening, the one who opens the cycle of the year. She walks barefoot, and fresh grass sprouts in her footsteps. Her breath gives rise to morning mist, and her laughter echoes in birdsong.
Woven into her braid are the first flowers of spring—snowdrops, lilies of the valley, coltsfoots, crocuses, liverworts. They never wither, carrying the fragrance of dew. Each flower is said to be the soul of one who was reborn with the season.
Her horns are not mere adornments but living branches of a blossoming apple tree. The same branches form her staff, upon which she sits as though upon a throne of nature. Covered in delicate pink and white blossoms, they embody eternal renewal.
The glowing butterflies around her are the souls of those who did not survive the winter. She grants them a final dance, transforming them into flowers so that spring forever remembers them in petals.
Here: https://x.com/FankBones/status/1957657608875307153
Or here: https://bsky.app/profile/fankbones....../3lwq2ghm4v22a
She appears on the night when the last snow melts into rivers and the first drop of dew trembles on a newborn blade of grass. Her hair flows like a misty dawn, and her eyes shimmer like thawing puddles catching the new sun.
Trill Dew is the witch of awakening, the one who opens the cycle of the year. She walks barefoot, and fresh grass sprouts in her footsteps. Her breath gives rise to morning mist, and her laughter echoes in birdsong.
Woven into her braid are the first flowers of spring—snowdrops, lilies of the valley, coltsfoots, crocuses, liverworts. They never wither, carrying the fragrance of dew. Each flower is said to be the soul of one who was reborn with the season.
Her horns are not mere adornments but living branches of a blossoming apple tree. The same branches form her staff, upon which she sits as though upon a throne of nature. Covered in delicate pink and white blossoms, they embody eternal renewal.
The glowing butterflies around her are the souls of those who did not survive the winter. She grants them a final dance, transforming them into flowers so that spring forever remembers them in petals.
Category All / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 1920 x 1920px
File Size 776.2 kB
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