The Forest Witch's Home for Magical Creatures

Chapter 23: Woes and the Full Moon

The snow came and went. The boys enjoyed the mud that followed just as much as the actual snow. They showed up on the porch shivering and covered in mud. Their faces were dirty but happy.

The witch seemed to be spending more time "working". She increased her time spent both in the woods and in her workroom. She still spent time with each boy while they worked on their school work, and cooked all their meals but she was more distracted than she had been.

The boys were asleep and the hour was late. The little witch was still in her workroom. Wren's steps were silent as he walked down the hallway leading to the witch's lair.

All these considered, it was a pretty tame lair. It was warm and filled with hanging plants and jars with a variety of ingredients.

Most of the room was dimly lit. There were no curtains over the large windows and the darkness bled in. The witch was standing at a workbench, several lamps lit up her workspace. She was carefully filling small jars with some type of paste. When the jar was full she would take a type of paper, and softly press the paste flat into the jar, screw the lid on, and meticulously put a label on the jar. She made a note on a piece of paper and then put the jar in one of the many boxes surrounding her desk.

He watched her repetitive movements for several minutes. She showed no sign of being aware of his presence, but he knew that she was. Their magic was attuned with one another, a sense of closeness Wren hasn't felt since a warmling.

She knew that he was here, watching her from the dark hallway but she felt comfortable enough not to address it.

This comfortableness made his stomach turn. She was never afraid, she turned her back to him, and tilted her head up when talking to him, exposing her soft neck. It would be no effort at all the kill the little witch. She never guarded herself against him. She was just comfortable with his presence and he wasn't sure what to do about that.

He kept his footfalls soft as he ventured into the room. He peeked into some of the boxes. The jars were various sizes and held different mixtures. He picked one up and held it to his nose before putting it back.

The witch watched him with a content little smile on her face. The soft light made the bags under her eyes prominent. She offered him the jar she just filled. It smelled of vanilla and mint.

She continued her assembly as he walked behind her and investigated the room. She seemed content to let him open boxes and drawers.

She was comfortable with him going through her workroom. It was infuriating.

He picked up a book off her shelf and flipped through it while he watched her. She was wearing pants. They were too big for her. Loose and fell over her feet. Her shirt was tight and short, sitting across her ribs. The front of it was a solid piece of stretchy black material, but the shoulders and back were thin straps that crisscrossed over her back, leaving much of her back exposed.

He watched as her arms and back moved as she worked. He was so distracted by how her skin stretched over her bones that he almost missed it. She twisted and bent to pick up a lid that she dropped and the light shined just right over her back. It highlighted jagged white lines across her back.

He put the book down and stepped closer to her. She didn't stop working or tense up. The trust was unwarranted.

Across her back were scars. They were white with age. They shined when the light hit them. Some were straight and clean lines, others were jagged and crooked. His eyes found one that followed that started in the middle of her back and followed the curve of her spine up before getting lost in her hair. He absentmindedly brushed her hair aside. The witch didn't freeze until his talon touched the top of the scar at the base of her skull, he could just see it through her hair.