A proper lady from the English countryside, she strolls through the falling leaves. Her golden feathers catch the autumn light, which dazzles passersby.

The story of sourdough begins in ancient Egypt over 5000 years ago, where wild yeast and flour met beside a warm hearth in an accidental chance to make leavened bread. 

Beneath the charm of colonial facades, Salem’s history is steeped in mystery and myth, particularly the trials that took place from February 1692 to May 1693.

It was a waxing moon tonight. Contrary to popular belief, witches don’t wait for full moons to make magic.

In the old ways, a witch was never alone. They were often trailed by a clever cat, a sly raven, or even a toad. But today, in spaces where flour dust hangs in the air, kitchen witches have familiars of other forms.

Every year like clockwork, wizarding travelers from all over would gather at a hidden inn just beyond the edge of the Everfog Forest. 

During the Harvest Moon, in the heart of the Toffee Forest, the trees glow with golden light. Their branches hang heavy with enchanted pecans, each one soaked in moonlight and brimming with magic.

The air feels crisp, and leaves in hues of reds and yellows flutter to the ground. Today is the day you’ve been waiting for: the pumpkin harvest. 

There's an old story about an even older sweater that you won't find in your drawers or closet. It shows up when you need it most, and it knows not just when the air turns cold, but when you do.

Long before raspberries blushed red, the bramble was wild and pale. Its berries were soft and colorless, and hid beneath twisting thorns.

Transmission 1138 [[ Decrypted ]]

CLASSIFIED // LEVEL 9 ACCESS REQUIRED

Not far from the edge of the forest, where sunlight filters through wildflower fields and the wind smells faintly of thyme and clover, there is a hive unlike any other….

Sunlight spills gently over terracotta rooftops, and shutters open one by one as the town wakes up.

In an ancient world, when the first pecan trees stretched their arms to the skies, a young gatherer wandered through the forest

Once a year, when the leaves start to turn
And summer starts to relinquish its burn,
Golden invites begin to appear
By owl or wind or something less clear.

When the lavender fog rolls in low and sweet, it curls through the hollows like a secret. A soft light flickers like a heartbeat from just beyond the veil. It belongs to the twilight fairy…

Your mind has been a little tangled lately with too many thoughts blooming all at once. As if there are too many steps ahead at your feet. So once again, you return down the cobbled path to that crooked shop with the moss along its windowsills

This morning, you woke with a strange stillness. No storm of thoughts, no pressing plans, just the soft hum of a day waiting to unfold.

The morning air bites sharper today. It’s cool enough to raise goosebumps and stir your thoughts from sleep so you wrap your cloak tighter and return to the crooked shop on the corner of Nowhere Street: The Provisioner’s Shelf.

A lemon walks into a bar… no, literally. Lieutenant Lemon misjudged a low-hanging beam while entering the Citrus & Stem Tavern and went down in a spectacularly tangy tumble.