Her glowing red eyes never blink, watching, even when closed. Cracked lines spider across her face like veins of dried blood.
At night, she scrawls ancient runes in ash and bone dust on nursery walls—spells not meant for living minds. Her lullabies play backward, sweet and ghastly, echoing softly… even when she isn’t there. She's not waiting to be loved. She's waiting to be obeyed.
Available as 8x8 cloth swatch, Fat Quater, or by the yard.
