The Hill Folk

So I sat on a log among the hill folk, unsure if I were still among the land of dreams or not. A woman with skin the color of the deep blue, midnight sky approached. As she stepped through shifting moonlight, her arms and face scintillated as if she were

The Skeleton King stepped over stars and hopped over a beautiful, blue and orange nebula to set me down among the hill folk. “These folk can be trusted,” the king said. “You’ll be safe here.” He turned and prepared to leap into the cosmos once more, but before he

I sat in the hand of the Skeleton King as he carried me away from the castle. He oscillated between jovial and dejected. I suppose mood swings are to be expected when one has been dead long enough to become a monarch. “What were you doing in there?” The king

Have you heard of the Seekers, fellow traveler? They venture out from a monastery that rests upon the Cosmic Shoreline seeking knowledge of the consciousnesses that share this universe. Once, one of these Seekers paid a visit to the Hill Folk. The Seeker: Hello. Celestia: Who are you? The Seeker:

I went up to the hills, beyond the constellations in the sky, to visit with the hill folk. I: I have a problem, hill folk, and I seek your guidance. Celestia: You’ve traveled a long way, Watcher. We’ll help if we can. I: I’ve lost my soul