A new Autumn Wind gathers its flock of red and gold leaves.
Their furtive hissing laughter echoes as they play around lamp posts and porch swings with new arrivals piling on by the hour. High up, past the church wall, beyond the arch that marks the cemetery path, above towering belfries and forgotten attics, perched atop the tallest spire’s topmost height is Magwitch.
His gargoyle talons click and “scritch!” on slate, a tortured chalkboard sound that is all but lost in the whistling air, but felt nevertheless. You are being watched.
Snug Harbor needed someone to keep those mischievous hags the Grim Sisters in check.
Who better to patrol the winds aloft than our own gargoyle?
He’s actually finished now, but I don’t have any good pictures of him yet without the blue ears.
Category: Halloween
Tags: gargoyle, paper mache gargoyle