Staghaven

Difficulty: 9/10 (your brain will cry, but politely)

You are in the presence of Staghaven, the Sleeper Between Moons.

A deity-beast woven from ancient dusk and planetary memory. Its antlers aren’t antlers—they’re fire sigils carved in skylight. Its fur holds the weight of ruined temples, forgotten sanctuaries, and that weird dream you had about a staircase that never ended.

It doesn't move. It waits.

This divine creature isn't walking through the cosmos—it is the cosmos. It carries kingdoms like fleas, and whispers time forward from behind star-blind eyes.

Each piece of this puzzle glows with deep teal twilight and sun-kissed flame. You’ll assemble it in silence. Not because it’s hard (it is), but because talking around this thing feels… wrong.

🌌 Great for: mythology inventors, twilight melancholists, and people who whisper to deer in video games.

🏛️ Bonus: frame it and hang it in your hallway so guests walk slower, instinctively.

🦌 Warning: staring too long may trigger spontaneous emotional introspection. You’ve been warned.