“Hurry Witch.” Gavin growled at Lenora, making her shrivel into herself. From her moth eaten petticoats she procured the bottle, her keen eyes raked over the patrons save they hear his accurate but unwelcome personifications.
Damn the church and their ignorance towards her livelihood.
“Bury it the North garden.” She ordered.
“No tricks then Witch? It works?”
“Aye.” She told him as cheers burst up from the nearby table. Fetid fingernails scratched at his wicked smile and Lenora shrank away even further.
“Tis fortuitous.” Gavin sneered.
“What is?”
“I told Father Peter that he need not clear the pyre.”
Damn the church and their ignorance towards her livelihood.
“Bury it the North garden.” She ordered.
“No tricks then Witch? It works?”
“Aye.” She told him as cheers burst up from the nearby table. Fetid fingernails scratched at his wicked smile and Lenora shrank away even further.
“Tis fortuitous.” Gavin sneered.
“What is?”
“I told Father Peter that he need not clear the pyre.”
