Lina Brook was a secret place.
Perhaps it wasn’t so secret in the way most people understood the word “secret.” The brook was, after all, open to the public, and oftentimes elderly couples and wealthy families who lived in the giant houses on the hill above could be seen strolling along its edges. This woodsy area was home to screeching jays and chattering squirrels; it was in no way hesitant to make its presence known to those around it.
No, Lina Brook was a much sneakier kind of secret. It was the curl of smoke rising from a cigarette clutched between the fingers of the man shivering atop the rocky outcrop above the moonlit water. It was the roaring laughter of a group of previously sheltered twenty-somethings finally exploring the world for themselves. It was the swelling of excitement in a little witchling’s stomach as they knelt behind a fallen tree and completed their first successful spell.
Lina Brook was a secret place in that it immediately became home to everyone who stumbled upon it. No matter what somebody found while looking through it, be it a dirty needle or the corpse of some rodent or another, the brook somehow remained safe and intimate. Home meant something different to everyone, but Lina Brook managed to accommodate every interpretation of what that was, and that alone made it a magical, secret place.
Lina Brook, Draft 1 | @faeriescribe