The Lore of The Hollow

✨ The Hollow Keeps

“Every dream you ever outgrew still lives here.

Every creature you ever loved still remembers your name.”

-Recorded by the Realm Keeper, where imagination first took root.

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Before names. Before maps.

There was a place where the world bent inward and stirred.

Some called it a valley.

Some, a forgotten grove.

But the Hollow has never been a place that belongs to words.

It began with a child who lived half in the world and half in stories. She shaped kingdoms from mud and twigs, crowned her animals with invisible titles, and spun wonder into every corner of her days.

Where others saw only earth, she saw cobblestones no mason had laid, towers no hand had built, lanterns that glowed without flame.

What she imagined did not vanish when she grew, it sank into the marrow of the world, into the soil itself.

Thus, the Hollow awoke.

The Hollow is alive.

It is not land, nor forest, nor stone, but a weaving of all three: a great tapestry of memory and motion.

It listens. It hungers. It dreams.

Its magic is not gentle alone; it is curious, wild, and sometimes heavy.

It does not give its gifts lightly.

Every creature that steps inside becomes entangled.

The Hollow tests them.

It whispers questions into their bones, unearths the deepest part of them, and binds their truth into power.

A pig with restless sight became a Seer, forever haunted by what may be.

A vanishing brother slipped between shadows until he learned the art of disappearing.

Rabbits, goats, sheep, all who entered did not lose themselves; they became more than themselves.

But being entangled with the Hollow is no simple gift.

To hold Hollow magic is to carry its weight.

The lantern bearer must guide others, even when his own path is dark.

The star walker cannot sleep without feeling the pull of constellations.

The vanishing wizard must always return, no matter how far he slips away.

If one falters, the Hollow stirs.

If one thrives, the Hollow hums brighter.

Some say the Hollow was born of old stars that fell into the roots of the earth.

Some say it is where forgotten wishes go to grow.

But the oldest trees know better.

They whisper that the Hollow was never born at all, it was imagined into being, shaken into life by a Keeper whose heart refused to let magic die.

And so the Hollow remains, a living legend, a cradle of curiosity,

where every step may lead to wonder or simply mirror the wonder of Humphrey Honey Bunny Farm Traveling Petting Zoo,

and every creature carries more than it appears.

It is ancient, and it is young,

for each day someone enters, their story becomes another thread in its weave.

The Hollow keeps.

It waits.

It watches.

It remembers.

By: Brittney Humphrey

October 08th, 2025