Leak

Leak is a Fae of the house’s seams and the places where water remembers walls. Field notes record it as small and fluid in presence rather than shape: a damp shimmer that gathers in the corners of attics, behind skirting boards, and beneath eaves. Smell: a sharp, mineral wetness—ozone, cold stone, and the faint sugared tang of old paper. Sound: the patient, irregular drip turned purposeful, and a soft susurration like breath moving through a keyhole; at greater proximity there is the skitter of tiny claws or fingers against timber. Temperature: a localized chill that raises the hair on the neck and leaves a fine dewy coolness on exposed skin. Observers report an uncanny sense of being watched through the house’s cracks, and that secrets—lost trinkets, hidden letters—are often found near its favored drip-lines.