take a trip to your dark side
go on and have a good cry
The constant stream of visits is shocking at first, but the witch slips into her role as easily as the sun slips away at dusk. As with most things it takes time for her to settle: her usual retort to an annoying question eventually develops into a brisk explanation, and she controls her temper (at least more often than not) around the youth as she becomes more familiar with her duties. Pan is no exception to her change of heart, though Yana is still not certain how to regard her scaled apprentice. Be it due to her unfamiliarity with mentor-ship -- her only experience of which has been quite brutal -- or Pan's bizarre confession regarding his dementia, the hag knows not.
The astral lady flinches at the cheery tone of his voice, breaking her concentration. The glittering beetle she has been examining falls to the floor of her hut when her telekinetic hold is released. It rocks back and forth on its the back of its hard shell before righting itself and flying away. Swamp water eyes flutter closed as she clenches her teeth.
It's only a beetle, it's only a beetle, don't kill the young... old... whatever he thinks he is, don't kill the poor boy over it.
Messy locks of milky hair fall across her face as she swings her head towards him; she has forgotten to tie it back today. Her gaze lands on the pitiful pile of pastry he's offering her before returning to his face. She stares at the scales beneath each emerald orb for a moment before reminding herself that he has asked a question.
"I see you haven't been studying," her words are reproachful at first, and she bites her tongue before beginning again, this time in a lighter tone, "Thank you, Pan. We can use that to load the traps. As you can see, I've been quite busy. I would have visited your home sooner, but you know what is expected of me; of all healers."
Although she speaks the truth -- for there are always patients traipsing through the swamp to see her -- she has meant to visit the green boy's home for quite some time now. It's her reclusive nature -- not her commitment as Champion of Healing -- that has chained her to the stagnant waters and eerie mists of Tinea Swamp. To visit another Court is to leave her home unattended, and she does not yet trust the other healers to tend her traps or concoct her potions, and yet... A break from her routine does sound inviting.
"Fine, but you must recite all that you know about herbs along the way."
For such a young maid, she suits the life of a bitter old hag quite well.
