Author: dark_light | Isabella Amariah takes a little under a day to fly to Québec City from her teacher's home in Maine. She doesn't have to spend that long in transit, but the book she's fetching isn't urgent; as long as she's faster than international overland shipping it's worth sending her.
Witches are politely ignored by customs on undefended borders as long as no clans are giving either government particular trouble. As long as she's in the air, obviously a witch and not a human dressed up as one to play a stereotyped character on television, she doesn't even have to dip down and show her clan tattoo to prove that she's descended from those who give allegiance to the Olympic clan. (Clans still refer to themselves by geography, though her teacher is as Olympic as she and lives on the other side of the continent and cloud-pine hasn't gotten any faster recently.)
Isabella touches the symbol inside her left wrist: two concentric circles, two lines. It doesn't mean anything, it's just unique, simple, easy to draw on the floor in herbs or honey or lighter fluid for a spell that refers to the coven.
"If only you were a proper Harry Potter owl," Isabella tells Pathalan, "I could send you for the book, you'd be able to carry it all by yourself, and I could be working out the kinks in this latest impossible assignment."
"Perhaps you wish I were an albatross," says Pathalan dryly, coasting through the air in her wake. "To fetch and carry and be not a bit like you at all."
"No," laughs Isabella. "Owl's fine. Soft and see-in-the-dark."
"It's never dark," says Pathalan. "Never quite."
She approaches the city, and attracts attention; witches are known but hardly common. A teenager - not even old enough to look properly ageless and spectacular like Metis Imestha, her teacher, or even Ranata Ekamma, her mother - dressed in raggedy black silks that whip around her in the wind, soaring over the streets on cloud-pine, is more unusual still.
Isabella Amaraiah coasts to a stop outside the correct address - witches can benefit from Google Street View even when they do not use streets - and descends to ground level. |
Author: pythbox | Speaking of teenagers, there's a boy about her age in a huge puffy brown coat struggling up the street when she lands. He waves. |
Author: dark_light | Isabella ignores him.
Path settles on her shoulder and waves a wing, though. |
Author: pythbox | He laughs.
A tiny white fox with enormous ears pokes his head out of the cozy warmth of the boy's hood and sticks his tongue out at Path, then retreats again immediately. |
Author: dark_light | "You think he's cute," Path says in Isabella's ear, too low for anyone else to hear. "The boy, I mean, though the fox too. Not enough that it'll bother you to leave it alone, but you do."
"Thank you," says Isabella through gritted teeth, because she did ask to keep updated on that kind of thing. She doesn't want to be blindsided by the kind of love witches can fall into. She suspects that her parents should never have married, but while Ranata may stray here and there on adventures with this clan sister or that friend from Asia or some teacher of crafts lately north from Brazil, she can never manage to stay away from Charlie too long, too aware of how he can die, too aware of how she'll regret any missed minute with him when he does and she's young still.
Isabella is glad to exist, but she does wish it could have come with less inconvenience to the both of them, Charlie alternately wishing his wife would come home and despairing of her flighty nature and Ranata alternately bored to tears with Forks and pining for her mortal beloved.
Picking up the book is simple. Isabella puts it in the black bag that she wears slung over her shoulders, sort of like a cross between a purse and a knapsack, and walks out the door again. Metis could have sprung for overnight shipping, but why would you do that when you have an apprentice?
Now it's time to find someplace that sells passable lunch and refuel for the flight home. Isabella looks around for restaurants. |
Author: pythbox | The boy has moved about ten more feet up the hill in that time. He looks back and spots her coming out again.
"That was fast!" he says amicably. His accent isn't local; it sounds more Brooklyn than Quebec. |
Author: dark_light | Isabella shrugs. "It was already bought. It was held for me." And, because she doesn't see anywhere good to eat, she says, "Do you happen to know of a good restaurant? It doesn't have to be nearby if you can direct me there." She gestures at the pine. Her accent is a very witchy Pacific Northwest. Her father had half the raising of her before she could fly, after all, and she's not old enough to have drifted to the "generic witch" accent altogether. |
Author: pythbox | "I'll show you a good one if you buy me lunch," he bargains, displaying a charming smile. |
Author: dark_light | "If you get something cheap," she shrugs. "The card isn't really mine." |
Author: pythbox | "Deal," he says, and turns onto a cross street. He makes much better time on level ground.
The fox's nose emerges from his hood again. She waves her tiny paw at Path, then scrambles back into the warm interior. |
Author: dark_light | Path hoots a laughing sort of hoot.
And Isabella follows the strange boy. "Have you got a name?" she inquires. "I'm Isabella Amariah and this is my Pathalan." |
Author: pythbox | "Have I got a name," he muses. "I might. Then again, I might not." |
Author: dark_light | "You might not?" Isabella laughs. "That sounds challenging in more ways than one." |
Author: pythbox | "Really?" he says, interested. "Which ways?" |
Author: dark_light | "To have failed to acquire one," Isabella says. "At any point in your life, moreover. And then to operate in its absence." |
Author: pythbox | "Maybe I used to have one," he suggests. "And I didn't like it, so I threw it out." |
Author: dark_light | "And haven't invented a replacement?" |
Author: pythbox | "Guess not," he says cheerfully, and makes another turn. This time they're going downhill, which is a little quicker. |
Author: dark_light | Isabella trips over a sidewalk paver trying to keep up. Exasperated, she flips her cloud-pine horizontal, sits on it, and floats after him instead of walking. Who ever heard of a clumsy witch? Grace should have been her birth blessing.
(She doesn't mean that. She's pleased that she and Path are protected against mind-affecting spells, she really is. But it's not usually as relevant as her clumsiness is.)
"Well," she says, "what do you and your daemon call each other?" |
Author: pythbox | He laughs. "All kinds of things," he says. "My best friend calls me Truthwright; you might like that better." Merrily, "Or not. Why don't you pick something?" |
Author: dark_light | "The only man's name that's coming to mind right now is my father's, which I imagine would be confusing," she says. "I'll think about it. Maybe I'll think of something before it stops mattering. Why Truthwright?" |
Author: pythbox | "'Cause I lie so much," he says, grinning over his shoulder at her. |
Author: dark_light | "Curious." She smooths out the needles on her pine. "So your daemon doesn't have a name either?" |
Author: pythbox | "Nope," says the fox, sticking his nose out of Truthwright's hood again just long enough to deliver the word. |
Author: dark_light | Path squints at the fox.
"I think the fox was a female a minute ago," he whispers in Isabella's ear.
Isabella doesn't outwardly react to this.
But she does think of a name.
"Kas Petaal," she says. He probably doesn't know enough witch religion to know that she's named him after the only deity in the pantheon with a male aspect outside of her divine-daemon, although the entity is normally referred to as though fully female anyway because all the rituals are designed to rhyme with female pronouns. (It is perfectly acceptable to name people after goddesses. Amariah is a goddess, in fact.) "You can be Kas and the fox can be Petaal." |
Author: pythbox | "Okay," says Kas. "Fine by us. Does it mean something?" |
Author: dark_light | "Means someone," says Isabella. "Witches might laugh if you introduce yourselves to them that way." |
Author: pythbox | "You're not laughing," he observes.
"What's the joke?" inquires Petaal from the comfort of the fur-lined hood. |
Author: dark_light | "Kas Petaal's a goddess," says Isabella. "Or a god. The only one where there's a question about the matter, since these are after all witch deities." |
Author: pythbox | "Somebody's a smart cookie," says Petaal, poking her face out again. Kas grins. |
Author: dark_light | Isabella pets Pathalan's feathers. "Owls can see in the daytime, too," she says. "So, how are you doing that?" |
Author: pythbox | "Magic," Petaal jokes, and disappears back into Kas's hood with a flick of her—suddenly longer, bushier, and more orange—tail. |
Author: dark_light | Bell doesn't fall off her cloud-pine, but if she did she couldn't look more stunned. "How old are you?" she asks. |
Author: pythbox | "Eighteen," Kas says merrily. Petaal, now a red fox, rests her front paws on the fur lining of the hood and grins a foxy little grin. |
Author: dark_light | "I didn't think humans settled any later than witches," Isabella said. "I have a cousin whose daemon didn't settle till she was almost seventeen - he loved being a tiger, he resisted the pull to bird shapes as long as he could, I think that's why. Eighteen. Wow. And I've never heard of daemons changing sex at all." |
Author: pythbox | Petaal giggles and reverts to fennec form, tucking herself into the invisible recesses of the hood.
"Guess we're just special," says Kas. And: "Check it out: lunch!"
He has found them a restaurant. It is small and extremely charming, with a hand-painted green sign that seems to imply it sells very happy snowmen. |
Author: dark_light | "Do you do anything else unusual?" Isabella asks, pushing into the restaurant. "Or are you just more... daemonically unstable... than the average child?"
(It's clearly not a secret. Petaal was changing like that in the middle of the street, half in clear view; Path's eyes aren't that unusual.) |
Author: pythbox | "Define 'unusual'," he says cheerfully.
The restaurant owner greets them familiarly in French. Kas responds, mispronounced but intelligible. Apparently he knows the place, and the place also knows him. They are invited to choose a table. |
Author: dark_light | Isabella knows enough phrases of French to pick up a book and guess at cognates in the menu. "Recommendations?" she asks, peering at the selection and listening to Pathalan's guesses about the words. |
Author: pythbox | "Best soup in the city," he says. |
Author: dark_light | "Well, that's nonspecific. But I'm not allergic to anything, so all right," shrugs Bell. "And I'm hoping to avoid stopping on the way back to Maine so I will also get this thing with the word that I believe to be 'chicken'." |
Author: pythbox | "Sure," Kas says amicably. "Maine, huh? To bring your fancy book home?" |
Author: dark_light | "Yeah. My teacher wants a spell in it. I think after she copies it out and I've had a bit to look through it, it's going to the clan library, but that's not urgent enough that she's likely to send me flying to Washington too." |
Author: pythbox | "I lived in Maine for a bit once," he says.
The restaurant owner comes back to take their orders. Kas remembers and reproduces Isabella's, adds his own, and hands over his menu.
Apparently deciding that it's warm enough in here, Petaal takes his red fox shape, pushes Kas's hood back, and curls up in it with his nose and front paws resting on Kas's right shoulder. |
Author: dark_light | Path hops onto the table and a few steps forward from Isabella's shoulder. She doesn't have anything between his talons and her skin, but there must be a spell on her or something, because there aren't even marks, let alone wounds or scars. |
Author: pythbox | "Hi," says Petaal, snuggling into the side of Kas's neck and observing Path's progress across the table. |
Author: dark_light | "Hello," replies Path, blinking in a characteristically owlish manner. |
Author: pythbox | Petaal grins foxily. "What's up?" |
Author: dark_light | "You're puzzling," says Path. "Have you always known you could change sexes? Or did you discover it?"
Isabella's phone rings. It plays witchy music, wordless acapella vocals, until she answers it. "Yes, Metis?" she says. "Yes. Waiting for lunch. I'm hoping to fly straight back without stopping on the way. No. Of course. Not yet. Yes, if it's just that I can send Path. Shouldn't slow me down at all. Okay. I'll be back this evening."
Isabella hangs up the phone. "She needs a second original print of the receipt for the book," she tells her owl. "The clan library's going to want it for their insurance or something."
Path makes a sighing noise. "I'll be right back, then," he says, and he lets himself out of the restaurant with the next group to open the door and wings his way back to the bookstore. |
Author: pythbox | Petaal giggles and dives into the bowl of Kas's hood, emerging a moment later on his left shoulder as a female red fox.
"We were ten before we knew other daemons didn't," says Kas, reaching up to scratch her behind the ears. |
Author: dark_light | "Really? Did you not play with a lot of other kids growing up?" Isabella asks. |
Author: pythbox | Petaal snorts.
"Not really," says Kas.
Their soup arrives. |
Author: dark_light | Isabella drinks soup directly from the bowl. "Do you know which way Petaal appeared to begin with? Species too, that's always interesting. Path was a raccoon." |
Author: pythbox | "Nope," says Petaal, curling her fluffy tail around Kas's neck. |
Author: dark_light | Pathalan is back pretty quickly. He pecks at the window, and Isabella gets up to let him in. He stashes the extra receipt in her bag and goes back to sitting on her shoulder and nuzzles fluffy feathers on her cheek. Isabella murmurs the answer to his question in his ear, then drinks more soup; Path steals a bit of meat out of it. |
Author: pythbox | Petaal snickers.
Kas eats his soup with the provided spoon, smiling fondly. |
Author: dark_light | "Why did you want me to buy you lunch?" Isabella asks. "You could've just told me which streets led to this place." |
Author: pythbox | "...Um, because I'm broke and hungry?" he says. |
Author: dark_light | "Oh. Fair enough. You can order something else if you want," she shrugs. "I don't think Mrs. Carmichael will actually complain to Metis if the card gets charged for a suspiciously large meal one time." |
Author: pythbox | He grins widely. "Thanks!" |
Author: dark_light | Isabella grins back. "Witches trade in favors, services, that sort of thing, not in money, but Metis is pretty modern for someone who was born in the 1700s, and she'll trade for things like 'the use of a credit card in your name for a year'. If the Carmichaels' kid gets sick again I think they'll want a history of not complaining about the favor while it's in progress. We don't even use it that much." |
Author: pythbox | "So what's she want from the book?" |
Author: dark_light | "I don't know. I'm supposed to read it on my way home and try to guess which spell she's interested in," says Isabella, rolling her eyes. |
Author: pythbox | "Sounds like fun," says Kas. He takes the opportunity to order something else as the person who took their orders originally walks by again. |
Author: dark_light | "After a fashion. I do like learning magic, and I like Metis, but sometimes having a teacher is frustrating. There's no really good way to learn ritual magic solely out of books until you have a foundation, though." |
Author: pythbox | "What's it like?" he asks curiously. |
Author: dark_light | "Witchcraft? Depends what you're doing," Isabella says. "The spell I have on so Path doesn't shred me, and my birth blessing, and the healing Metis did on the Carmichael kid, aren't anything alike." |
Author: pythbox | "Well, what's a birth blessing?" |
Author: dark_light | "When a witch in my clan is born, someone - often her grandmother, sometimes another relative or a friend of the family - performs a ritual to give her a certain embedded blessing - an ability or a protection or something. We learn to do our own magic a little later than clans that don't do this, because the birth blessing sucks up some of our power. And the person doing the blessing can't pick exactly what it is, although they can pick which goddess to invoke and that steers it some." |
Author: pythbox | "Cool," says Kas. "What's yours?" |
Author: dark_light | "Mind-affecting spells act like I don't exist. They're not common, but they're nasty," says Isabella. "Courtesy of Evisa Iannakara. I think the relevant portfolio item was solitude. My great-grandmother was aiming for art. She wanted a painter, a runecaster. I can runecast but I need to make them big and they don't turn out very pretty." |
Author: pythbox | "Not that I know what runecasting is, either," Kas says cheerfully. |
Author: dark_light | "Oh, it's when the ritual involves writing symbols onto a surface, instead of being primarily oriented around verse or herbs or sacrificial power. It's kind of an artificial distinction. Plenty of heavier-duty magic involves all four and even little stuff can have two of those." |
Author: pythbox | "This magic stuff sounds pretty cool," he says, smiling. Petaal cuddles up and sticks her nose in his ear. |
Author: dark_light | "It is," Isabella says. "I think it's a pity only witches can learn it. And I'm very glad I'm a witch." |
Author: pythbox | "I wonder why only witches can learn it," says Kas. |
Author: dark_light | "There's a bunch of theories. I don't find any of them creditable except the idea that goddesses won't listen to anybody else. And that's only because I can't figure out how to ask Evisa Annakara and get a reply. I don't think it can just be genetics. If a witch's son has a kid with a non-witch woman all of whose male ancestors were also witches' sons, they will not have any witch children even if they have a dozen baby girls. Their kids won't even live to be 200 or be able to do tiny verse charms." |
Author: pythbox | "Huh," says Kas. "Is that weird?" |
Author: dark_light | "Weird as genetics goes, as far as I know, but I've been out of regular school and studying magic full time since I was fifteen, and haven't made it a side project of mine, so I'm not fully educated on that." |
Author: pythbox | "Funny," he says with a grin, "I've been out of school since I was fifteen, too." |
Author: dark_light | "And what do you do with your copious free time since then?" |
Author: pythbox | "Stuff," he says vaguely. |
Author: dark_light | "Such as?" |
Author: pythbox | "I was a stripper for a while," he offers. |
Author: dark_light | Isabella is confronted by an unexpected mental image and giggles. "Sorry. I don't mean to be rude," she says. |
Author: pythbox | "It's cool," he says, laughing. "Why, is that funny?" |
Author: dark_light | "Just unexpected." She finishes her soup. "I went to school with humans for ten years, I know strippers exist, it's just an odd concept. Witches don't even have a nudity taboo. In clan enclaves the silks only go on when convenient. It isn't as though we get cold." |
Author: pythbox | "Huh," he says. "Are hookers weird too, or do you get those?" |
Author: dark_light | "I don't personally know of any witches who choose to be prostitutes, but someone might have taken it up at some point," Isabella says. "I'm not sure how prevalent hiring them is but I suppose it's probably not literally nil; there are a lot of witches in the world. The concept is less bizarre, at least." |
Author: pythbox | "It's bizarre that you think stripping is bizarre," he informs her with a grin. |
Author: dark_light | "Well, I mean, taking off one's clothes is a perfectly ordinary activity that most people do at least once a day. I wouldn't trade - pay - to watch someone eat cereal, or fetch the newspaper, or drive to the mall, and if I heard that there was a thriving industry around doing those things for an audience - just that, without it being part of a musical or a TV show or something - then I would be confused. It's like that." |
Author: pythbox | "...You've never been to a strip club, have you," he says, amused. |
Author: dark_light | "No. Why? Is there singing?" |
Author: pythbox | "Well, there's music. And it's not just taking off your clothes. There's whole art to it. Well, depending where you go, I guess." |
Author: dark_light | "Fair enough. I could easily be missing something. So now it's like discovering that there's a form of performance art where people dance to music and eat cereal, and this is highly skilled work because otherwise they'd spill their milk, and lots of people feel motivated to watch cereal-eating dancers in particular instead of going to see Cats." |
Author: pythbox | "...Do witches also not believe in sexy clothes? 'Cause in that case, you are missing out." |
Author: dark_light | "We just wear this kind of thing," she says gesturing at the silks tied around her person and knotted to each other. "We're not big on owning stuff. There's a bolt of black silk in the house, so I won't be trapped in the house unable to go out without getting arrested if I accidentally set them on fire while I'm doing a ritual with flames. It'd take about five minutes to tear and tie another set. Maybe ten." |
Author: pythbox | "No, I mean sexy clothes on other people," he says. "The possibility of clothes being sexy. No?" |
Author: dark_light | Bell thinks. "If it is, it's not given a lot of emphasis. The witches who've been married talk about falling in love with men who were brave or talented or powerful. The witches who prefer to see women tend to just date each other and avoid the mess of falling for mortals. I've heard 'I knew I wanted him when I saw his beautiful eyes' but not 'I knew I wanted him when I saw his sharp outfit'." |
Author: pythbox | "...Okay, you've been to high school, right?" he says. "Ever get the hots for somebody there?" |
Author: dark_light | "Not especially." |
Author: pythbox | "Huh." He shakes his head. "Okay, I give up. I don't think I can explain it without actually taking you to a strip club." |
Author: dark_light | "I don't think I can justify hanging around in Québec that long," she says. "Interesting research project on a subject unrelated to my studies though it might be." |
Author: pythbox | "Well, try one sometime," he says. "See if you figure it out. Actually, got a pen and paper?" |
Author: dark_light | Isabella reaches into her bag, produces a small notebook, and tears out a page. Pathalan picks up a pen from a pocket of the bag in his beak and Isabella passes that over too. |
Author: pythbox | Kas writes down an address. It's in Montreal.
"I worked there for a while," he says. "It's pretty good. They thought I was nineteen, though, so shhh." |
Author: dark_light | "I don't appear in Canada routinely. I doubt I'll be in Montreal anytime in the next few years at least," Isabella says. "The most likely way for me to wind up there would be going on a trip with my mother." |
Author: pythbox | "Guess you'll just have to wait to find out what the fuss is all about, then," he says. |
Author: dark_light | "I think I'll live. I can file it under Human Peculiarities." |
Author: pythbox | "Awwwww," he says, with exaggerated disappointment. |
Author: dark_light | "I have a lot of magic to learn before I can expect to get anywhere without a teacher," Isabella chuckles. "It's my main priority for the next few years. I try not to spend too long on side trips." |
Author: pythbox | "Where are you, in Maine?" he asks. "Maybe I'll come visit. Take you somewhere nice." |
Author: dark_light | "Rockland. How are you going to take me somewhere if you're broke?" |
Author: pythbox | "I'm not always broke," he says. "I just am now." |
Author: dark_light | "Going to do more dancing-with-a-bowl-of-cereal?" she teases. |
Author: pythbox | "Definitely better than hooking, in this weather. But nah, I think I'll go see my friend first. She might have something for me." |
Author: dark_light | "Nice friend," comments Isabella. |
Author: pythbox | "She is, I love her so much," he says happily. |
Author: dark_light | Their second dishes arrive at long last and Isabella starts in on her chicken. Path puts the piece of paper with the address on it in her bag, and peers at Petaal quizzically.
"I know you're not a witch's daemon, but don't you ever come away from him?" he asks the fox. |
Author: pythbox | "Noooo," says Petaal, tucking his face against the side of Kas's neck.
"We're really close," says Kas. "Closer than most people, I guess." |
Author: dark_light | "It's probably just as well you aren't a witch, then," Isabella remarks. "Although come to think of it I think some humans separate, too, just not all." |
Author: pythbox | "My dad wouldn't fuck a witch if she held a gun to his head," Kas remarks idly. "And I have a dick, I hear that's disqualifying." |
Author: dark_light | "It is," Isabella says mildly. "Why doesn't he like witches?"
She's not insulted. You can't really insult a witch. |
Author: pythbox | "He was just an asshole," shrugs Kas. Petaal snuggles his neck some more. "I'm sure he'd shit himself if he knew I was hanging out with you." |
Author: dark_light | "Well, don't tell him, then, that sounds messy." |
Author: pythbox | "It's okay," Kas says cheerfully, "he's dead." |
Author: dark_light | "Oh."
She finishes her chicken, and the side of green beans, and puts the Carmichael credit card on the table. "I think offering condolences is traditional but you don't seem to have a place to put them." |
Author: pythbox | "It's good that you noticed, I hate having to explain to people that I don't really care." |
Author: dark_light | The waiter takes the credit card. "I suppose if he's going to be dead either way, that's convenient." |
Author: pythbox | Kas grins. So does Petaal.
"Yep!" |
Author: dark_light | "I still have my father. I'm fond of him, so that's also a convenient combination. However little sense he and my mother make together." |
Author: pythbox | "...Why don't they make sense?" |
Author: dark_light | "He stays put. She can't stand to, and she knows he'll be gone in the next fifty or sixty years so she has to keep coming back to make the most of their time. But she can't stand that little town he lives in. He gets to miss her or be unhappy that she's unhappy. It's worse when he takes time off work and tries to go somewhere with her. It could barely be more awkward if his daemon needed to live in freshwater and hers in salt. But he just has a wolverine, nothing too inconvenient. Purely a personality matter. If she weren't a witch I think she'd have left him." |
Author: pythbox | "...Awwwwww," says Kas. "That's really sad." |
Author: dark_light | "It is," sighs Isabella. "They get along really well with each other. Just not with each other's habitats. They're both good parents, though." |
Author: pythbox | "Better than it could be, I guess," he says. Petaal flicks her fluffy tail and nods. |
Author: dark_light | The credit card returns to Isabella. She writes something incomprehensible followed by her clan symbol, just like on the inside of her wrist. "Home I go," she says. "Thanks for the restaurant recommendation." |
Author: pythbox | "Bye!" says Kas. "Hey, what's Kas Petaal the god of?" |
Author: dark_light | "Oh," says Isabella, "every goddess has about fifty portfolio items and I haven't got them all memorized, but off the top of my head, witches address her about their sons or husbands, sacrificial magic, things to do with or going on during the new moon or autumn, ambiguous things in general, food, injury - but not healing, just the injury - and any object of obsession." |
Author: pythbox | "...I like it," he declares. "Suits me." |
Author: dark_light | "Glad I picked something appropriate," laughs Isabella. "Bye! It was nice to meet you!"
And out the door she goes, and she and Pathalan both take to the air. |
Author: pythbox | Just as Isabella is getting on her branch, Petaal shifts to the form of a tiny sparrow and darts out to bump her head against Path's chest. |
Author: dark_light | Aww. Path bats at her with a wing, gently. |
Author: pythbox | She pecks playfully at his feathers, not actually connecting, and then zooms back to Kas to burrow into his hood. |
Author: dark_light | Isabella waves as she settles on her branch and goes up. Path beats his wings to stay in place a moment longer, then follows his witch. |
Author: pythbox | Kas waves after them, then turns and trudges away, stuffing his hands in his coat's enormous warm pockets. |