The Woo has undergone some changes since last we saw her, the life of a Watcher is not without it's hazards. Sneaky peeking through a blackthorn hedge at the comings and goings therein, she was unkindly squirted in the eye with boiling bat's urine.
Why it was boiling and who, I shall not say... but it has left The Woo with one eye drawn in under a moon milk glaze.
The bumps and lumps you now see, are mementoes of secrets and circumstance spied, growing and groaning a little more with each passing moon.
Until at last, The Woo, is as stiff and knobbly as a gnarled tree root, neither moving nor peeking, waiting eternally to be reborn.
So, do watch where you tread in the forest and what you choose to carve.
Many a watcher has been undone that way!
Poor Weesk, who already had enough of his own woes, couldn't bare to forsee a life of helping after sticky helping of others misery, misfortune or mischief.
And so, our dear Weesk soon disappeared,
secretly and silently he slipped away through the city to a world, not entirely unlike our own.
The Woo, in a terrible state, sqwawked and clutched her breast as she searched on and on, through pond and glen and bog and briar. Well, she had a quick nosey around the house!
But in her haste she missed the spot, where first I saw him behind the pots, and there I spied, a fine and silvery sliver beckoning by the draughty window. It was a curious note scratched and scrawled on papery birch bark.
gon teee vlings
byond netl patch
Weesk had left us with his nettle stung eyes smarting. The mossy coated creature of the stumps and rocks, found a sheltered enclave, out of harms way, with Evelyn and her bird boy