The taste of metal still lingered in the air within the small cottage under the tree. Although the spell had been cast many hours ago, just breathing in through the mouth would make the pungent taste return. The witch hobbled around, gathering different ingredients and organizing them into separate jars. The sun was setting quickly in the woods, making the room grow increasingly dark, making the only light in the room the various candles strewn about. Through the crack under the front door was a draft. A breeze would periodically come through with the howling of the wind. The sound of creaking trees could be heard in the surrounding forest. The witch's crow flew over to her, landed on the window sill, and squawked, causing a disturbance in the peaceful night. The bird signaled with a nod of its head that he was ready to help take a few of the newly organized ingredients to their rightful place among the shelves.
"Alright now, here ye go," sighed the witch, placing two vials next to each other. The crow flew down from his perch, grabbing the two containers full of ingredients, and started to fly towards the shelves. Suddenly, lightning struck, scaring the crow causing him to bump into one of the hanging glass containers and drop the vials onto the floor. Upon impact, the delicate glass of the jars shattered. The pieces of glass scattered across the floor, along with the ingredients inside them. The witch quickly turned around at the noise and assessed the situation.
"Sorry, the lightning frightened me," croaked the bird, looking down at the ground.
"Oh dear, you dropped them, haven't you? Well, that's alright, those herbs are easy to find in these woods," the witch responded. She snapped her old, boney fingers and a broom lifted in a dark corner of the room. The broom quickly flew over, sweeping up the mess of shattered glass. At the same time, the witch placed the rest of the remaining containers carefully on the shelves.
The witch walked passed a cauldron resting in the center of the room. As she lit the firewood underneath with a wave of her hand, the crow flew over to perch on its rim. She quickly hobbled around the room, grabbing various items and tossing them into the heating cauldron.
"Hmm, I think we are going to have to let this one simmer overnight," mumbled the witch to the crow while tapping the knuckle of her pointer finger to her nose. "I feel like I'm missing someth- oh!" she witch exclaimed, holding her wrinkled finger into the air and then pointing towards the mantel on the fireplace, "I almost forgot. Grab me one of those worms from that jar over there and drop it into the pot, will ye?"
The crow did as he was told, and the viscous liquid started to boil. Grabbing the wooden spoon from the side of the pot, the witch began to stir the brewing potion. Taking her pinky finger, she pricked the bubbling liquid with the tip of her pointy nail. She brought the substance up to her nose and took a long sniff. Her eyes widened while she hummed with content. She then stuck her pinky into her mouth to test the potion even further.
"Yes. I do think this one will have to brew overnight," she stated, smiling at the crow. She placed a lid onto the cauldron with a scraping thud and set the large spoon onto one of the tables that were littered with books. She dusted off her hands onto her dress and looked towards the bird.
"Now, how 'bout we cook up some dinner?" chimed the witch.
