The sound of the stag's hasty approach startles her, and the hag wrenches her head skyward midst-hack. Sickly green eyes widen to reveal the white surrounding them, but retreat beneath dark eyelids again as soon as the stranger stills. She watches him carefully rather than studiously now; there's no telling when the horned beast might pursue her again. It is during this time that she becomes fully aware of their contrasting heights, and his build and stature besides.He has the capability to topple a tree, it seems. Though his temperament says otherwise.
Her heart takes longer to settle back in its place between her ribs, but once it has it resumes the impartial state it knows best. Why else does it ignore the silent commands that have managed to bewitch so many others? Is there something wrong with it? With me? The witch licks her lips as she considers the issue. Not possible. It is best not to heed the call that this man refers to. If it isn't your own magic, leave it alone.
The thought is dismissed entirely when the red-headed stranger utters an invitation. The little hag rocks back on her heels, and swamp water climbs up the star-marked walls of her bodice as she considers the offer. Is it truly wise to delve deeper into a territory she knows little about with a man she believes to be mad? Certainly not, but was that really going to stop you from doing it? Her snowy crown dips in a nod, and she gives him her name as if that will make the venture any more sane, "Yana, by the way." The thin blanket of algae lying atop the water's surface parts as she approaches the hulking red beast. I take it you don't want me to refer to you as "horned man" or "beast" any longer. "What do you call yourself? And where are those arrows you mentioned?"
@Camdis -- Apologies for my tardiness, I'm super excited to meet your angsty boy <3 I don't want to make any excuses for being rusty, but it's hard not to compare myself to your fabulous writing.
Her heart takes longer to settle back in its place between her ribs, but once it has it resumes the impartial state it knows best. Why else does it ignore the silent commands that have managed to bewitch so many others? Is there something wrong with it? With me? The witch licks her lips as she considers the issue. Not possible. It is best not to heed the call that this man refers to. If it isn't your own magic, leave it alone.
The thought is dismissed entirely when the red-headed stranger utters an invitation. The little hag rocks back on her heels, and swamp water climbs up the star-marked walls of her bodice as she considers the offer. Is it truly wise to delve deeper into a territory she knows little about with a man she believes to be mad? Certainly not, but was that really going to stop you from doing it? Her snowy crown dips in a nod, and she gives him her name as if that will make the venture any more sane, "Yana, by the way." The thin blanket of algae lying atop the water's surface parts as she approaches the hulking red beast. I take it you don't want me to refer to you as "horned man" or "beast" any longer. "What do you call yourself? And where are those arrows you mentioned?"
@Camdis -- Apologies for my tardiness, I'm super excited to meet your angsty boy <3 I don't want to make any excuses for being rusty, but it's hard not to compare myself to your fabulous writing.
