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Holloway is an old soul. Long ago, he was the spirit of a quiet tree who stood watch at the edge of a long-forgotten village. He absorbed years of stories, secrets, songs, and sorrow. When the last villager moved on, the tree remained, silently guarding the memories — until a woodcarver came and gave him new form.
The hollow in his head isn’t just for show — it’s where he stores the echoes of the past. If you listen closely, you might hear faint whispers, laughter, or lullabies drift out on a breeze. Holloway doesn’t speak much, but his crooked smile and thoughtful eyes say plenty. He’s a keeper of calm, a gentle balance to Wobble’s wild ways.
Holloway is an old soul. Long ago, he was the spirit of a quiet tree who stood watch at the edge of a long-forgotten village. He absorbed years of stories, secrets, songs, and sorrow. When the last villager moved on, the tree remained, silently guarding the memories — until a woodcarver came and gave him new form.
The hollow in his head isn’t just for show — it’s where he stores the echoes of the past. If you listen closely, you might hear faint whispers, laughter, or lullabies drift out on a breeze. Holloway doesn’t speak much, but his crooked smile and thoughtful eyes say plenty. He’s a keeper of calm, a gentle balance to Wobble’s wild ways.