This is a sketch of Orwen ‘Very White’. We know nothing about her from Welsh mythology aside from her being the mother of Orddu ‘Very Black’, a witch who lived in a cave in Pennant Gofid ‘the Valley of Grief’ in the north, and was killed by Arthur. The image and poem below are based on my personal gnosis.

Mine is the wisdom of the owl
who takes flight at dusk,
crepuscular,
like the crescent
of the moon beginning to wax.

In the interstices between new and full,
dark and light, by the half-light you might meet me.

Although they call me ‘Very White’ you don’t want to see me
fully exposed by the white-pitched revealing light of the full moon.

By the full moon’s light I once caught a snowy white hare
and took her to be sacrificed in the Castle of Night
but somewhere up there in the heavens
she escaped me and I found
in her stead
within my owl feather cloak
a piece of dead star and it has since
then lit the orb on top of my staff with dead starlight.

They say now that I might be seen at dusk or dawn
on the wing or as a light on the marsh
too white to behold by the black of night or daylight.