A restless wanderer at heart, he travels through the galaxy on a ship powered by the lights of aurora borialis. He is searching for something -   a beautiful place, a pretty face, but nothing is fulfilling and he always ends up moving on. He left to find his lost Space Cows who graze by the rainbow geysers of his home planet, a planet filled with paint drip ice mountains and a volcanic rumble, where grassy pathways vein through the middle of massive lakes and towering rock formations. He is branded with a circle - glittery and effervescent like the ice caves of his home, a trait shared by the ancestors of his people. This mark allows him the gift of sight beyond ones eyes, visions not of the future but rather of the present. It is because of this he can see glimpses of far away places, sometimes filled with beauty and wonder, other times of horrible creatures in lands filled with fire and poison. Occasionally he sees visions of his lost Bovines as they wander through Space and he fires up his ship to go after them.

It was through this gift of sight that he first saw the Swamp Princess where she stood in the glittery muck, brows furrowed and deep in concentration over a cloud of pink smoke. Even though he knew his trusty old ship only had enough juice left from the northern lights for a one way journey, the Space Cowboy fired it up to seek the company of this powerful women of his dreams.



The swamp princess was once full of wonder of the swamp where she grew up. It had this calmness to it, balanced by the waterline which bordered the real world and its reflection. She had always felt that there was more to the swamp than met the eye, in tuned with the vibrations of the moss which hung like hair, the twisting mangroves whose fingers seemingly reached down to join hands with its reflection and the pockets of glitter and glam which appeared on the surface of ponds during a moonrise. The swamp had taught her its magic when she was young, and throughout the years she collected it, like shoebox treasures reserved for later examination. In adolescence she learned how to summon colorful smoke from the rotting logs and other small spells. Her entire life was the discovery of the swamp’s beauty and power until she was ingrained into it like an old tree.

Now a grown woman with long locks the shade of red fall moss and an alligator spirit, the Swamp Princess is perceived by the other creature dwellers as a omniscient reflection of the power and beauty of the swamp. They look to her for guidance and follow her around asking incessant questions. But what they see is just a reflection of who she really is and she begins to brood, darkening and daydreaming of freedom from this resisted fate.


The Swamp creatures slide through life in the muck and the stink of their swampy hometown. they have always lived there and know it better than anyone, through parties and sadness they are together. The slugs have been collecting tin cans and broken bottles to create instruments and set the rhythm. It’s a routine existence, one for crawling and flapping around in the hot heavy world that they have always known .

A spell of calmness sweeps over the swamp whenever the Swamp Princess comes near. The creatures are drawn to the playful steady magic she seems to radiate. They seek her council and leadership but she’s always trying to shake them off, moving through the deeper waters with a new and unsettling darkness about her.