Breathe in… breathe out… in… out... Merle’s legs carried her as fast as they could. At this point, she no longer felt pain. Nor did she quite feel herself running. The only thought running through her mind was that repetitive reminder to breathe. As she sprinted through the forest, the bramble scraped at the girl’s limbs. Her light-brown hair, while not much messier than normal, distinctly held more sticks and leaves than she was used to. None of this seemed to matter to her though; she had to find the witch.
After what seemed like days of running (which they certainly were not, seeing as night had only just fallen an hour ago), she finally saw it: the light of the witch’s hut. At least, that’s what she was fairly certain it was, and she had no time to stop and consider if maybe this was some random cabin or if she just made it back to the village in some odd way. Merle followed the light, running as fast as she could until she untangled herself from the twigs and thorns, finding herself in a small clearing. If she were paying attention, she would have seen a small greenhouse and garden, a quaint fire pit, and a beautifully ornate birdbath, but regretfully, her attention was on the hut… Cabin? Hovel? Ah, distinction doesn’t matter; she was already at the door.
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Merle knocked hurriedly, panting and catching her breath as her scrapes and frail lungs started catching up with her. Her summons were answered by a creak and in an exhausted tone, she looked up with big green eyes and squeaked a small, desperate, “Help”. In the doorway stood a woman; tall, slender, and as pale as the moon. The wind brushed back her black, feathered hair revealing deep blue eyes and a resting expression lying somewhere between disinterested and displeased. She responded with just a single word, her face unchanged and her tone matching her gaze: “Why?”. Her visitor promptly fainted, sparking what seemed to be the greatest emotion this face could muster: a slight raise of the eyebrows and a quiet, shocked “-Oh”.
