Spite was sitting in her favorite place by the babbling, chuckling brook. She knew this would lighten her mood as she had decided that it was time. The Wizard, Dewin, needed to know her name.
Spite knew she was unique and that she had been "born" from the sacrifice of a Wish Dragon trying to correct a great wrong. That love is partially reflected in the blue flame on her forehead but no one had been present when she was born. She had come in at a special time and was blessed with knowing what she was, but no one was there to name her. Over time the villagers and Dewin just fell into the habit of calling her Spite.
Welcome to my blog. This is where I will reveal the magic of my Fae and their stories and share with you some of the success and pitfalls through the journey of doll making, sculpting, and other crafts that all come back to my dolls in many ways.