Oddity, the Charmwell, and the Button That Chose Her

Oddity wasn’t searching for a new place.

She rarely was. She wandered the Enchanted Hollow the way she always did, nose close to the ground, ears tuned to the smallest sounds, heart open to whatever wished to be noticed. A bent mushroom cap. A smooth stone pressed deep into the soil. A place where the moss grew thicker, softer, almost welcoming.

That was when she realized the Hollow had changed. The air cooled without warning, not cold, just quieter. Sounds didn’t vanish; they softened, as if the world had lowered its voice out of courtesy. The green beneath her paws deepened, moss weaving itself across roots and stones like a living stitch.

Oddity slowed, only slightly.

Mushrooms spread in every direction, some no taller than her paw, others rising proudly like tiny umbrellas. Moss climbed everything it touched, unhurried and certain. The place felt patient. Alive. Not wild, intentional.

Oddity knew, without knowing how, that she had wandered into Mossmere.

She didn’t stop.

She didn’t retreat.

Mossmere didn’t ask for permission. A flicker of awareness tugged at her attention. Not movement exactly, watchfulness. Between two mushrooms stood a small house grown entirely from stem and cap. Its window was round, simple, and unmistakably occupied.

Two eyes peeked out. They didn’t glow. They didn’t flinch. They simply watched.

Oddity paused. She tilted her head, whiskers twitching, curiosity gentle and unafraid. She didn’t wave or speak or step closer. She looked, really looked, the way she always did when something deserved respect. The eyes didn’t disappear.

After a moment, Oddity gave a soft, content huff and continued on. Whatever lived there had seen her, and that felt like enough. It was then she noticed the box.

It rested near the roots of an old tree, wood softened by time and touch. Moss brushed its corners as though the land itself had welcomed it. It wasn’t hidden or displayed. It simply belonged.

Oddity approached without hesitation. She didn’t ask how it arrived. She didn’t wonder who placed it there. Some things didn’t cross worlds by being carried. Some things crossed by becoming something new.

She knew its name the way she knew the ground beneath her paws.

Charmwell.

Oddity nudged the lid open carefully. Inside were small things, not treasures meant to impress, but pieces that carried quiet weight. Objects shaped by time, by hands, by moments that mattered. The bones of the box remembered where it came from, but what lived inside now felt warm. Steady. Full in a way that didn’t ask to be explained.

Nestled among them was a single navy-blue button. Smooth. Solid. Familiar. Oddity lifted it gently, turning it between her paws. The button felt different, not louder, not brighter, just…present. Like something that stayed when other things drifted away. It carried a calm that settled rather than demanded, a kindness that didn’t announce itself. The button had chosen her.

Oddity knew, just as surely as she knew Mossmere, that this button was meant to move. To be found. To be returned. Again and again.

She closed Charmwell with care, giving the box one last appreciative glance, then tucked the button close and turned back toward the Hollow. As she left, the mushroom house window dimmed slightly. Somewhere behind her, something small and living felt pleased.

Mossmere didn’t follow.

It never did.

Back in the Hollow, Oddity returned to her collection of curiosities, small wonders gathered from quiet places and forgotten corners. She placed the button among them, watching how it changed the space around it. Nothing dramatic happened. No glow. No sound, and yet…the air felt lighter.

Oddity smiled.

In time, she did what she always did with the things that felt whimsical, she hid it. Not buried. Not lost. Placed, where noticing mattered.

Sometimes beneath a leaf-curled stone.

Sometimes near a fencepost worn smooth by years. Sometimes tucked where only careful eyes would think to look.

The Hollow learned the pattern.

Find the button.

Feel the quiet rightness of it.

Bring it back.

Those who returned it were always met kindly by the GateKeeper, who offered a small trinket in exchange, not as payment, but as thanks.

Then the button would be hidden again, ready to bring its gentle joy to someone new. Oddity watched it all with satisfaction. The button didn’t belong to her alone. It belonged to the finding. To the returning. To the simple happiness of noticing something small and choosing to care.

Somewhere deep within the Enchanted Hollow, Charmwell rested on, Mossmere grew quietly, and the Hollow itself seemed to hum, pleased that kindness, once found, never truly disappeared.

By: Brittney Humphrey

December 28th, 2025

Written in honor of my mother Debra "Debbie" Watters, as this magical button was hers and it shall live on in both the Enchanted Hollow and Humphrey Honey Bunny Farm Traveling Petting Zoo.

March 11th, 1963 - December 14th, 2025