Twizzlekin was never planned. He arrived the way the best little wonders do, by accident, through a random NightCafe seed and straight into my heart. One look at those bright, curious eyes and that tangle of twiggy, porcelain-fine strangeness, and I knew he was not just an image. He was a tiny somebody. A soft oddling. A moon-nest creature. The sort of being who looks as though he was pieced together from pale roots, lost whispers, and the last white hush of winter. He feels like he belongs in a hidden corner of an enchanted wood, where the moss glows faintly, the teacups go missing, and every pebble might secretly be treasure. This collection is the beginning of Twizzlekin’s little world, and soon, his stories will follow.

KrisB

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