In the heart of the Irish Massy Woods, where the fog hangs thick and roots twist like old fingers, there once lived an Irish witch named Máirín of the Hexed Ashes.

Keeper of balance, guarding the forest from men who sought to cut and burn what should never have been touched.

Every year, the woods grew quieter, the trees fell faster, and the spirits of the land began to fade.

So on Samhain’s Eve, when the veil between the living and dead worlds grew thin, Máirín gathered the final harvest: one crooked pumpkin, a torn waistcoat from a lost traveler, and a pinch of soul from the autumn wind.

She shaped them together with her bare hands, whispered to the earth,

“Guard what still breathes when all else turns cold.”

And from the forest floor, Tím awoke.

His limbs were long and spindly as branches, his head a glowing gourd with a crooked grin, and his eyes flickered softly — not fire, but witchlight, carrying the last warmth of the season.He wandered the glades and bog paths, keeping watch through the mists. When poachers came, the forest grew restless — roots stirred, crows cried warnings — and they’d flee before seeing the figure that glowed faintly among the trees.

But Tím was no monster. At dawn, he’d sit by the riverside, mending fallen nests, gathering lost trinkets, humming tunes only the wind remembered.He loved the forest — not out of duty, but because he was part of it: born from its soil, molded by its keeper, and kept alive by the turning of the seasons.

Some say if you walk the Massy Woods or Hell Fire ruins near Halloween, you might spot him through the fog — hunched and curious, one foot turned out, his crooked grin faintly shining.If your heart is kind, he’ll tip his head in greeting.But if you come with fire or axe, the trees will whisper your name… and the guardian of the woods will surely find you....

3D printing settings:

Print with tree supportsBrim: AutoProfile: StrongExtra: Base Version included !