I
vy. Wolfbane. Nightshade.With sure-fire focus, the youngling of red and gold whispered the long list of poisonous flora in her head and under her breath. She worked with a sharpness that was honed over her time being smacked and prodded for picking the plants wrong; grinding them and mixing them in the opposite order; all done by the crone from a life long ago. Thinking of this, Mila snickered, the golden trinkets woven into her thick hair jingling as she shook her head.
Foxglove. Belladonna. Moonflower.
Moving with a dancer's grace, she worked; using the outreaches of her mind to pick the herbs she needed from the weeds along the shores of the lake. A couple leaves here, a couple stems there, as she piled them into the wicker basket sitting on a boulder beside her. She continued to whisper the names from her past — the ringleader, the crone, the goons — and when she was at the list's tail end, she would repeat the practice. Forever immortalized and doomed to die, should she ever cross paths with them again.
Hemlock.
Yes. Her plans fell together with a satisfying click as she remembered the missing piece of her puzzle. A wicked little smile tugged at her supple lips at the thought.. oh Calligo help anyone who dared become a nuisance to her now.
@Lavinia + anyone welcome ❤️
super short post, I'm sorry dearie! still getting used to her.
