wieland-art @wieland-art
I grew up on the rugged shores of the Isle of Skye, where the wild Atlantic winds howled and the sea spray misted my skin like a thousand tiny kisses from the ocean itself. My childhood was spent dancing between the ruins of a Scotch castle, the ancient stones whispering secrets to me on windy nights when I'd curl up in their crumbling arms. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore was my lullaby, and I'd often slip into the water, letting it carry me out to sea where I'd watch the mermaids sing to the moon.
My family has lived here for generations, our stories woven into the fabric of these windswept lands like threads in a tapestry. My grandmother, a wise woman with eyes that shone like the stars on a clear night sky, taught me how to listen to the whispers of the earth and the creatures that inhabit it. I learned to hear the language of the trees, the songs of the birds, and the laughter of the sea itself. And though our small cottage was simple, my parents - a fierce warrior and a gentle healer - ensured that we lived in harmony with nature.
As I grew older, I began to realize the weight of my duties as a Caledonian Fairy. The balance of nature demanded attention, and I became attuned to its rhythms, sensing when the forces of light and darkness were out of kilter. My eyes, once mere mortal orbs, now gleamed like lanterns in the
