#if i leave the house with slippers its cuz i meant to

[two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat]

Was anyone else just like...really weird about things that weren't yours ending up with your things?

Like...ok for example, in elementary school we would earn gold slips as a reward and we could use them to buy certain privileges for a week or a day or whatever

And I dont remember what grade but we had a "class pet" that was a stuffed rabbit and we could pay to bring it home with us for a week. And as a kid who really fucking loved stuffed animals (my bed was completely covered in them) I decided I would save up for that

Well I got it home and immediately hid it under my bed cuz It Did Not Belong. I wanted nothing to do with it. It lived under my bed the entire week so I would not have to look at it. The idea of having it touch any of my other stuffed animals gave me anxiety. And I was so fuckin relieved when it was time to take it back.

This never happened with new stuffed animals that I got at the store or as a gift. In fact new stuffed animals always got an honorary spot next to my pillow at night for at least a week after I got them. But if it was not MINE then it did not get to mix with my things.

I always gave people their pencils or pens back when I borrowed them cuz the idea of putting it in my pencil case made me nauseous. Even if they told me I could just keep it. Which made it really hard to understand how people could steal my pencils.

[eroselless]

hopelessly devoted [2]

Pairing : Sebastian Stan x reader │regency au

Summary : When Y/N Brighton finds herself suddenly married to a strange older man, she thinks her life is completely derailed. Wha happens when she starts to get close to him?

Warnings : smut, lil bit of angst, fluffiness

Word Count : 3.2k

Notes : Y'all I kinda suck at dialogue, so I'm sorry if it sounds weird lol. Also I'm sorry it's a little late, I was trying to aim for Sunday morning but oh well. This will also be the last part of this lil mini series. I had lots of fun writing it. Hope you guys like it! Also just a little last note, this is my first time writing a full smut sequence (cuz I am very much I experienced, if you catch my drift) so apologies if it’s not the best :)

here's what I listened to while I wrote :)

find part 1 here!

It was in the very early hours of the morning when Y/N shot up from her sleep. Her brain was buzzing from a dream she couldn’t quite remember. She had awoken with a gasp, the feeling of falling bringing her out from her deep slumber. The night was still dark, the moon slowly making its way back under the horizon. She rubbed her eyes with the heel of her hand, stars sparkling behind her closed eyelids.

The house was in such complete silence, you could hear a pin drop. Y/N sat there, for a moment in the dark. It had been three days since the party with Sebastian. As much as she tried to open up to him, it was nearly impossible as he continued to retreat into his office, asking not to be disturbed. Leaning back on her pillows, she stared at the empty side of her bed. Reaching over, she smoothed her hand over the untouched sheet as if to try to imagine how warm it would be if her husband had slept there.

“He’s probably sound asleep in his room, his dreams far away from me.” She sighed, swinging her legs out from under the covers and stepping out of bed. She pulled a thin robe over her nightgown, shivering slightly at the cold fabric. She grabbed a lit candelabra, holding it gently as she made her way down to the kitchens. She only realized she had forgotten her slippers when her feet had touched the cold tiles of the kitchens. Placing the candle on the counter, she opened the fridge and took out a small glass jar of milk. She sat down in front of the candle, staring into the dancing flame.

Sebastian was cold under his sheets, not having retired to his bed long ago. He tossed and turned, huffing as he sat up in frustration. Sleep seemed to evade him in every way possible. He made his way down to the kitchen, not having bothered to put on a shirt. As he neared the doorway, he realized his bride was sitting there quietly, her cheek leaning into her left hand. Her hair was pulled back, a braid adorning her hair. Her back was to him as he walked in.

“Can’t sleep either?” He said once he was close enough. Y/N jumped a little, choking slightly on the milk she was drinking. She cleared her throat once she had swallowed and nodded at him.

“I thought maybe milk would help but,” She shrugged and made a face. Sebastian chuckled and took an identical bottle of milk out of the fridge.

“It might help if it was warm, I think.” He started and flicked on the oven. He placed a pan on the stove, emptying the bottle into it. “I can warm yours up too if you want.” Y/N nodded shyly, getting up and walking to hand him the bottle. They stood there, watching the milk slowly come to a bubble. The awkwardness was almost palpable, each eyeing the other’s movements.

Once the milk had warmed up he poured it into cups, handing one to her. He sat down next to her, much closer than he had ever been. They drank their milk in silence.

Y/N cradled the cup in her hands, watching the last of the milk swirl around at the bottom. Sebastian watched her, examining the dark circles under her eyes. Maybe her head was as full as his was. He wanted to speak, to let her know that he didn’t mean to pull away from her. That he really wanted to open his heart to but couldn’t. He couldn’t let himself. Strands of her hair had fallen out of the loose braid, falling in front of her face. He reached over, tucking it behind her ear. His fingers grazed the side of her face, feeling the smoothness of her cheek. He moved his hand, his thumb on the side of her face, fingers gently wrapping around the back of her neck. He tried to push the guilt away, tried to mute it as he felt her lean into his hand. Her eyes were hooded, the light of the candle slowly starting to fade as they inched closer. He could feel her slow breath as his lips came nearer to hers. He was so close.

With a swift move of his free arm, he knocked over the glass bottle, sending it falling to the tile floor. He jumped away from her, startled by the noise. He quickly rose from his chair, looking around the room for a broom. From the corner of his eye, he watched as Y/N stood from her chair slowly. Her head was down as she picked up the empty cups and put them in the sink. The moment was gone. He shook his head.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” He said, throwing away the pieces of glass. She really didn’t know what he meant. Did he mean he shouldn’t have accidentally knocked over the bottle? Or did he mean he shouldn’t have gotten so close to kissing her?

“It’s fine, it was just a little accident.” She mumbled, still not knowing what he was referring to. He put the broom back in its place and made his way out of the dark kitchen. He looked back at her as she stood silently by the sink. He nodded to her and whispered a small g’night before fading into the darkness and leaving her alone. Her eyes filled with tears as he slipped from her fingers once again.

It was in the late afternoon when she saw him next. She had sat down for a light snack after dinner, looking out the big windows of the dining room. The sun was making its way down the sky but was almost completely hidden behind thickening clouds. The whole day felt gloomy despite the ray of the sun that fought to peek out. Her husband had been quiet during dinner, dismissing himself the second he had eaten the last morsel of food from his plate. He wasn’t that hungry, he said. Where she sat, she watched as he made his way into the gardens.

Sebastian sighed as he sat down on the stone bench on the edge of the gardens. He looked forward, towards the darkening sky. From the library to the party to the warm glasses of milk the night before. His desire to have her close was rising but the guilt inside him kept him away. How could she feel happiness here? Away from her old life, away from the people she loved? He couldn’t help those words from echoing in his head. Even though he had been helping her family, giving them what they needed to eliminate their debts, he felt guilty for marrying her. He had taken her chances of a happy future away.

He turned towards the house as he heard footsteps walking towards him, rustling in the grass. He sucked in a breath as Y/N sat down next to him on the bench. She looked over at him, pressing closer as she leaned on her arm. They sat in silence, enjoying the cool air. It’s going to start raining soon, she thought.

There was something else in the air. There was a looming question, now that I'm here, what do I do now? Y/N could feel herself try to push a question out, anything to make him see her. Even though she was sat down next to him, why couldn’t they speak anymore? Why did he pull away from her whenever he got too close?

“Do you hate me?” She asked. Sebastian blinked. “Of course not.” He replied, confusion dripping from the question.

“Do I embarrass you?” She egged on, thinking back to the one moment in public, on the dance floor. He shook his head.

“Then why do you pull away when we are close?” She said. Frustration began to settle in him. He didn’t want to explain himself. Of course she didn’t embarrass him, but how could he explain to her the riddles that went on in his head? He stood up, shaking his head. He stepped in front of her, wanting to leave.

“No, no,” She cried, pushing herself up from her spot on the bench. “I can’t do this anymore!” She grabbed his hands, tears sparkling in her eyes.

He roughly pulled his hands away, making a move toward the house. The rain had slowly started to fall around them.

“Sebastian stop,” she begged, reaching for his arm again.

“This time you don’t get to walk away.” His eyes stayed focused on the grass below their feet, refusing to meet her eyes. He stayed frozen in place.

“Answer my question, why is it that whenever we get a chance alone, you pull away?” She protested. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to rid them of tears. His mouth felt dry as he tried to speak.

“I c-can’t” Her grip didn’t lessen on his arm. She was waiting. He looked back at her, tears falling from their eyes. Even here, with her eyes tinted red she still looked beautiful.

“I can’t bring myself to give in to the fire that’s burning in me. I can’t look at you and deny that there is love in me for you.” He spilled out. “I can’t help but feel as if I robbed you from any happiness that you could’ve had.” Y/N felt her heart beat louder in her chest.

“Every time I see you smile, I cannot help but feel sorrow grow in my chest because I can only ever imagine making you smile that way.” The pain in Y/N’s seemed to fade, growing into an adoration as he confessed. For weeks they had gone from sneaking longing glances at each other and pining for each other in secret.

“If you let me, I could be the happiest,” She began, bringing his hand to her chest. “I could be the happiest, here, with you.”

“My heart, it beats for you.” They stood there, their eyes locked on the other. And there, under the gloom and the rain, there was a different feeling in the pit of their stomachs. That warm fuzzy, euphoric feeling. Love.

He pressed his lips to her in a flurry of passion. He pulled his hand from her, holding the sides of her face. The walls built around each of them came crumbling down as they found themselves finally letting go. The saltiness of their tears was being slowly washed away by the rain, the pain falling away.

Sebastian pulled away from the kiss, resting his head on Y/N’s forehead. They were breathless, taking in the moment. Y/N leaned into his touch, smiling and pressing her cold nose against his cheek. Even though the storm was tearing around them, there was peace.

Y/N walked behind Sebastian as they made their way out of the rain and into their home. They slowly reached the top of the stairs, freezing upon coming face to face with their individual doors. Neither of them wanted to separate from the other, they stood in silence for a few seconds. Y/N watched as Sebastian looked between her and the door and then back at her.

“Will you need any help with your clothing?” she dared ask. Her voice was just above a whisper and for a second she questioned whether or not he had heard her. He felt his breath stop as he met her eyes.

“I suppose I will.” he said calmly. With that he guided her into his room.

She had only ever glanced into it a handful of times but had never even stepped foot in it. He had beautiful sage green decor with accents of gold. His bed sheets were a deep green and his curtains an even deeper green to keep the light from coming. They were pulled open to reveal the gloom coming from outside. It was similar to the size of her room yet there was a different vibe to it. The lights were lit, providing a soft and alluring vibe to the room. She was in awe of how elegant his room was, contrasting his serious exterior. Sebastian watched her, looking on with adoration.

She was pulled out of her daze as he stepped in front of her. She felt her cheeks warm up as he softly grabbed her hands in his. She peered up at him nervously, through her lashes. She pulled her hands away, bringing them to the buttons of his shirt. He watched as she carefully unbuttoned each one, admiring his tan skin as she got a wider and wider view of his chest.

Sebastian felt his heart flutter as her eyes traveled over the expanse of his pectorals. Her fingers danced over the faint chest hair and then over his shoulders as she fully peeled the sopping shirt from him. She trailed her fingers over his arms, taking one in her hands. She admired the veins that slightly popped up from under the skin as she traced them with the tips of her nails. He let out a shaky sigh as he pulled away from her.

A sense of lust began to grow in the air as he moved behind her. His breath danced on the back of her neck as he began to undo the knots of her dress. He pulled gently at the string, loosening it and taking it from her. She shivered under his touch, relishing in the lingering feeling of his fingertips on her back. She was left in her undergarments, feeling the cold air around her. She felt vulnerable. She had to still a laugh in her throat, what a metaphor for their current situation.

She then felt the rest of the clothes drop to the floor. She was now completely bare, her back fully exposed to Sebastian. She stepped out of the pool of clothes that were at her feet and slowly turned to face him. Reaching up, she gently pulled the pin from her hair. It cascaded down over her shoulders, still damp from the rain. Sebastian held in a gasp. Even though they had been living in the same house for weeks, he had never seen her with her hair down. Not completely. It was always up in a sort of way, but never lingering over her face like this. He kept his eyes up, trying not to look down at the swells of her breasts. He didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable. He felt butterflies flutter in his stomach when her eyes broke away from his and he felt her hands make their way to the buckle of his pants. He took a deep breath in as he felt his member stir within the confines of his undergarments. She pulled his pants and all from his hips and let them join her clothes on the floor below.

They were both bare. Standing in silence, in the cool air of Sebastian’s room.

“Tell me you want to stop and we can.” He whispered. Y/N’s eyes met his, twinkling in the dim light. “I don’t want to.” she said, inching forward.

With that, Sebastian pulled her in. His thumb caressed her bottom lip before placing his full lips over hers. This kiss was unlike the one they had shared in the rain. That one, though filled with passion, had timidness to it. He had been holding back ever so slightly. She felt him push against her until she felt something hit the back of her knees and she fell onto the bed.

It was then when she felt self conscious. She was frozen on the bed with her hair sprawled out underneath her like a halo. Sebastian towered over her, looking at her with an almost innocent tint in his eyes. On instinct, her hands went to cover her breast and her legs bent, hiding her womanhood. He shook his head, pulling her hand away gently.

“Please don’t hide from me. You're so beautiful.”

He leaned over, pressing a single kiss on her throat. He looked up at her, as if to ask for permission to continue. Y/N nodded before he leaned over her again. He pressed his hands on the mattress, holding himself up as he trailed his lips down the valley between her breasts. She could feel her heartbeat start picking up and soon she was feeling it between her legs. She felt herself grow wetter as he suckled on her nipple, tweaking the other one with his fingers. Her chest heaved as she felt his fingers travel just below her navel. He pressed his finger there before moving his mouth down her torso. She let out a low moan, tingles erupting in the depths of her stomach. She felt her legs shake nervously as his mouth inched lower.

She uttered a sharp gasp as he suctioned his lips on her clit, circling it with his tongue. He worked his fingers in her, pushing them knuckle deep. Y/N subconsciously bucked her hips, wanting to soothe the red hot burning that was building up inside her. Her hands fisted the bedsheet until her knuckles were white. She reached her climax with a pop as Sebastian rode it out, hand still moving gently against her. He climbed on top of her as she pulled his lips towards hers, not caring that she could taste herself on his tongue. He placed a hand under each of her knees, slotting himself between them. His arms were pressed into the mattress on either side of her head.

“Slowly.” He said as he lined himself with her entrance.

He groaned as he bottomed out. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, feeling a sting between her legs. Y/N squirmed under him, trying her best to breathe steadily. Her fingers gripped tightly onto the tender skin of his back. A high pitched moan came from her lips as he reached between them to press his fingers against her little bundle of nerves.

“Seb —”

He nudged her hands from his back and interlaced their fingers, pinning her hands above her head. She rolled her head into his mouth panting. His jaw went slack, his lips just hovering over hers.

Y/N felt her eyes roll to the back of her head as Sebastian pulled one of her knees up to her chest, hitting a different angle inside of her. A heat began to spread through her body. Her words got stuck behind her throat as she felt herself come undone under him. A moan fell from her lips as she came once again.

At the feeling of her walls fluttering around him, Sebastian felt a coil inside him break as he came inside her walls. His head fell to her shoulder as they both rode down from their highs. Y/N let out a breath as he let his full body fall on her. It was comforting despite feeling slightly crushed under him. It felt nice. She pressed her lips to his shoulder, smiling as she felt him kiss her neck lovingly. A smile graced her lips as he rolled off her, wrapping her in his arms from behind. They laid there, letting sleep fall over them. Tomorrow would be different, a good kind different. It was only up from here.

tags:

@lharrietg @carleywhittaker @tonystankschild @headheartbellarke @baebee35 @lady-loki-ren @soap-bubble-nebula @chipilerendi @thekleonablog @gloryekaterina @pspice639

[muridgreenthumb-blog]

Chapter 2

Meant to post this last week but I got busy and distracted >_>

Chapter 2

A Kind Witch…?

 They boy struggled to breathe as he twisted and turned and ran and drowned in his dream.  Angry colours at first and then twisted trees enveloped him, terror gripping his mind. He tried to run from the monsters who gave chase, but a great tidal wave rose up and swallowed him, leaving him in the suffocating dark…

 ~          ~          ~

 His mind slowly awoke from its sleep, though his eyes remained closed. He tried to remember what woke him and images of his nightmare came back and his heart began to race.  Trying to sit up set him into more of a frenzied panic as his body seemed locked into place, like he was paralysed.  The dream, the nightmare he had had, once so vivid now seemed so lost, dissipating like steam in the wind while he tried to remember what the heck had happened.  He cracked an eye open to get his bearings but snapped it shut almost immediately as the piercing morning light stabbed his eye.  

Squinting his eyes open, the black shapes surrounding his vision turned into frost-bitten trees.  A light fog hung in the air and grey clouds choked the sky.  His senses became aware of a sizzling sound and the quiet plinking of strings pulled in a melody.  

He tried stretching his head backward to look above and got a face full of pumpkin.  That wasn’t what he had been expecting.  

The sensation of not being able to move proved too great as panic started to rise inside him.  He twisted and turned, a searing pain from his ribs ripping across his torso as he tried to find out what on earth was going on.  He rolled onto his side in his struggle, an arm stuck down, the other across his chest, cheek in the dirt, facing the music - and froze.

 ~          ~          ~

 The witch sat on her stool, looking at her surroundings with bleary eyes, breathing in the crisp, morning air. With ice shards lining everything like cream on a cake, the temperature was colder than an ice selkie's breath.  

Ice selkies were like these adorable chinchillas that looked like their bodies had been stretched long and turned white.  They were deadly because people would pick them up and suddenly freeze as its breath froze them from their adorable tiny mouths.  There was an epidemic for a while before a doctor made a cure for the frozen and a vaccine for the untouched.  Now people could keep them as pets.

Usually prepared for this type of weather, she had wrapped herself in her thick, baggy, woollen pyjamas, hand knitted by her.  So of course there were holes, and so she also wore a dressing gown made from kangaroo fur and leather slippers with woollen insides.  Her long, wild hair hung down her back and shoulders, keeping the edges of her face warm.  She kept her stitched-up hat on her head for good measure.

Her arm was aching.

She had woken up two hours ago, and waited for the boy to wake up as well. She was supposed to be leaving today, and she couldn’t bring him with her.  After a while of waiting, she grew tired and got out her violin, hoping that maybe the melody would wake him up with ease.  Thirty seconds into her plan that wasn't working she grew frustrated. She dug the bow across the strings, causing a cacophony of squeaking and the pain in her arm to flare and yelled “Wake up!”

Nothing.

Well, she couldn’t really blame him, being half starved and half dead.  At least he looked half dead.  Again, she hoped he wasn’t dead.

Having bad experiences with people before, she felt the need to practice introducing herself.  Not having much contact with the world at large left her feeling like she had missed out on learning social skills:

“Hello!  Oh my goodness I sound like a little girl.”

“Hiya mate, I’m Murid!  I... I’m a flippin’ captain of a pirate ship, wanna go across the seas?  UGH.”

“Hello I’m Mughidgrenthumnb- Greenthumb, Greeeeeenthumb…  I’m extremely glad you’re not conscious.”

“You’re alive right? …yep, you’re alive.”

“Hi I’m Murid and I really wish you’d wake up.  I need to leave.”

“Hello poor and malnourished boy whom I saved from death last night, I’m Murid. Wake up.”

“I. Am.  Murid. Greenthumb.  How.  Are. You?  As you can see, I barely interact with any other sentient beings.”

“Hi I’m Murid who are you why are you homeless.”

“Hi I - oh my goodness what am I doing.”

She grew bored and self-conscious, so she decided to just get on with breakfast.

So she sat on her stool, watching over the last of her eggs and bacon with a little remorse.  She had plenty of other food, but she had to steal this stuff - it's not like she had any pigs or chickens to make food from. Her violin lay across her legs as she played a quiet tune, plucking the strings and cradling her right arm.  

Alright, what on earth am I gonna do with this boy when he wakes up?  Murid pondered as she shifted in and out of thoughts.  Well feed him obviously, but what after that?  I don’t wanna try any introductions again, that went terribly and he wasn’t even conscious for that.  He’s in pretty bad shape.  I don’t know what kind of accommodation I can arrange for him; I can’t arrange anything. They’d probably execute him if they knew he’d been with a witch… I hope Thatcha’s ok.

She shifted her gaze to her wagon, covered entirely in vines and leaves of a pumpkin plant.  The boy was lying near one of the pumpkins.  Well, it’s not like I don’t have plenty of space…no, no, no, no, I don’t know this boy and for all I know he could be a witch hunter or something.  A homeless one.  Plus, he’s a human.  And why on earth would he wanna stay with me?  The only reason would be if he were really desperate.  Or, he could just stay with me until I come across a suitable village, or even an orphanage!  Then I can drop him off and be on my merry way!  Alone.

Murid gave barely a pause to that last thought.  She heard movement behind her but kept on strumming then stopped when she heard it a second time.  She looked behind her thinking He must be moving in his sleep agai- oh!” she started.  The boy was staring straight at her, twisted in his sleeping bag. Murid stared straight back at him, her heart rate rising with the colour in her cheeks.  Trying to keep calm, she had to remind herself that there was no way at all that this boy could harm her.  He was sick and his bones, while mended, would still be painful, there was no way he could harm her.  He was just a simple, injured human.  He couldn’t hurt her.  

He couldn’t hurt her.

“Uh, mo-morning!” Murid finally blurted, fumbling with her violin and words. She placed it down (the violin, not her words) and got up.  She then proceeded to trip over her violin, stumble, almost knock over the pan on the fire and hit her violin, the thing pulling notes on its own accord, and finally toppled the stool over to its side.  Murid got out of the entanglement and looked at the mess.  

“That wasn’t really what I wanted my first impression t’be...”  She muttered under her breath.  The boy continued to stare at the strange girl as she straightened her violin and up righted the stool and pan.  He didn’t dare move, even as she walked over to him (who was trying to act like nothing had happened).  

“Hello!  I – ugh… are you alright? ‘Cuz you look kind’v… caught up in that.” She pointed out, keeping at a safe distance.  He paused when she said this, taking a look down at himself, then tried to pull his arms out.  Murid let the show continue for a while but was getting frustrated just by watching him; she crouched on the balls of her feet and reached out with caution but he jerked away from her hands, making her jump.  Murid looked at him and recoiled back slowly, a resentful expression on her face.  

“I’ll, um – I’ve got your breakfast cooking.  I’ll just, go get it.” Murid muttered.  Her voice lilted with a strange accent, with her 'r's relaxed and her 'a's and 'ou's drawn out.  Her “i’s” sounded she was saying “i-ye” or “oi”.  And she seemed to mistake sentences for one big long word, joining two to three words at a time into one.  The boy finally got his arms out despite the fiery pain stabbing into his side, and shuffled back against the pumpkin behind him.  

He stared at this creature as she made her way around the camp fire, quiet terror gripping him.  He had seen her face, the colour of this girl’s skin and hair, the iconic style of that pointy hat – she was a witch.

Witches were vile.  They were evil, they were wicked, they were awful, and deemed justly so because of their use of Black Magic… whatever that was.  Ok, so he didn’t know what was so bad about Black Magic or what magic even was, but still, people talked about it with enough distaste for him to know it was a Bad Thing.  Being a witch meant that you lived in exile, banished to the wilderness, and you were to follow those rules unless you wanted to hang.  He had come across the carcass of a burnt down house in town once. Apparently, the couple had come into a close encounter with a witch from the outside as they were travelling back to their home town.  Simply for that, the witch had burned their house down.  Witches were bad, bad, bad, bad.  Even so, he had to admit… this one was prettier than what he had imagined them being.

Coming over with full hands, cutlery rattling, the witch laid a plate of food in front of him.  A clay mug followed next, full of steaming tea.  He noticed that she kept her right arm in a crooked position.  

“Ugh… food,” she pointed at the plate then hurried away.  The boy looked at the breakfast as if it were a live octopus. It was bacon and eggs, and it smelled delicious, but he couldn’t make sense of it; why was this witch giving him food?  Why had she not killed him yet, or used him as a specimen to test Black Magic on like all those horror stories he had heard about?  Who was she?  Why was she acting like a… like an actual person?  

He snapped his head up at the witch as she sat down in front of him, still keeping a distance between them.  She winced when she put down her mug and plate, rubbing her right arm. Her eyes shifted up to him and he froze.

“…food,” she pointed again.  

The boy looked at the steaming plate and then back at her.  “Because you kinda look like you haven’t eaten fer a while…” He continued to stare at her.  She sighed, putting down her fork.  

“Alright, here’s the deal O silent one.  We eat our breakfast, and if you don’t eat yours, I’m gonna have it, cuz I've been savin’ that beggs and acon.  UGH eggs and bacon.  And then I’m gonna bring you back inta town, and leave you there.  How’s that sound?”

Murid waited for some kind of reply from him; when it didn’t come, she just shrugged and tucked into her breakfast.  She looked like she was struggling to get the food on her fork, like she wasn’t used to her left hand.  His eyes trailed up and he studied her face.  She had laugh lines around her mouth, like she smiled a lot.  Her eyebrows were low and determined, but her eyes had a more innocent nature, more trust in them.  Looking at them he noticed something odd about the colour.  The left one was a light, sea blue while the other was dark blue, not quite black but… duller.

She raised an eyebrow at his gaze and he switched to his plate.  It occurred to him that he might anger the witch if he didn't eat her food.  Thinking fast he grabbed the fork and played around with it, hoping he looked like he was about to take a bite at any moment.

Murid leaned forward slowly.  “…y’do know what do with food right?”  she whispered loudly.  He flinched and looked at her.  

“Y’know, you cut it up, then you put in ya mouth, and then you chew-” The boy squinted and started nodding along with her, as if to say “Oh haha, very funny”. Murid stopped and snorted, smiling at him, and the boy surprised himself by smiling back.  Something changed in her face.

“I’m, Murid, by the way…” she introduced herself.  “What’s your name?”

The boy paused, considering his options.  Murid watched him quizzically as he grabbed a nearby stick and started scrawling in the dirt.  Murid tilted her head around to read the shaky writing.

“…Todd, Wor…Worthington?” she repeated aloud.  He nodded at her.  

“Well.  Hello!  Todd.” She gave a tentative grin.  He smiled back and took a nibble of the fried eggs.  That small nibble awoke a hunger in him that had since been dormant for weeks. With all honesty, he did not care if this food was poisoned or not, it tasted good and he was hungry, end of story.

 ~          ~          ~

 Murid doused the fire with a bucket of water before taking his and her plate.  The witch paused, looking from the dirty plates to the freshly put-out fire.  

“Darn it,” she whispered and clenched her fists.  “Ah I’ll clean ‘em later…”

Todd felt, so good.  But it was a painful kind of good; though his stomach had cried for food for weeks, finally giving it some made it realise it didn’t think it would get this far.  Now it was trying to remember what to do.  While he watched Murid move around her campsite, Todd thought, weighing his options and choices.  She looked like she was packing up.  He picked up his stick.

Murid came over to her… guest, fluffing a coat she got from the wagon.  “Alright, I got you a coat so you won’t be so cold…” she quietened when she saw him looking up at her, his stick pointing down at the ground.  More writing. It said, “what’s going to happen to me?”

“Oh…” was all Murid could mutter.  Todd thought it was because she found the answer hard to say, but really she was just thinking ‘Is this an existential question or is he literally asking me what I’m going to do with him in the next hour or so? ‘Cuz I don’t know what happens when you die’.  She decided it was the latter.  

“Um, well, I was going to take you as far as the edge o’ town.  Then leave… you there… y’know, like, like dropping you back home after a sleep ovah!” she gave a smile, but it was a forced one. She knew how cruel that sounded. Save a homeless guy’s life then leave him back in the situation that had gotten him into trouble before.  His eyes stared into hers, wandering.

“Look… I’m sorry I can’t help you more, but I’ve done all that I can.  I took you to the doc, almost got HIM in trouble, I saved your life and gave you a meal.  And if I could, I’d seeya every day and cook you meals and help you to find some way of livin’ and get’ya off the street.  But I’m a witch.”  She crouched on her haunches.  “I can’t DO anything.  If they saw you with me – the rest of the humans – thay’d kill me AND you.  Every moment you’re with me you’re in danger and it’s bad enough you’ve spent half a night with me.  Green Skinna’s, y’know how they work?” Todd shook his head and Murid’s face fell.  “Darn it I wish someone knew.  But what I do know is, thay can track me, like I’ve got a scent or something.  And that’s gonna rub off on you.”  Murid paused. “Not, not that I’m saying I smell. I-I take, baths, quite regularly th-thank you, I don’t stink.  I mean, mean that thay have devices, and thay know things I’ve been near if, if I linger-” Murid flailed her arms.  “Look, it’s just too much, ok!  I’m a danger t’you, and your a danger t’me… I’m sorry…” she shrugged with a grim look. He took a moment to take in what she was saying.  He knew she couldn’t take him in – he didn’t even think she’d offer – but he was hoping for help of some kind.  If he went back there and onto the street again, he’d…

His eyes pricked and his mouth contorted, biting away tears and he tried to hide his face.  The witch’s eyes widened; ok she’d expected him to be upset, but she didn’t expect him to cry.  Another bewildering thought slapped her - when did she get attached to him?!  

“Oh, um, ugh, oh gosh don’t- don’t cry, please, uh… HERE WAIT-” she yelled and bounded off, flinging away the coat as she darted into her wagon again.  Todd sniffed curiously; what could she possibly give him that would make this all better?  It may have been his ears playing tricks, but he swore when Murid ran out of the wagon again she had sounded far away, as if down in a long corridor. She jumped down and crouched in front of him, a necklace with an orange crystal pendant dangling from her hand. She was holding it out to him.

…

Was she bribing him?

“This!  Is a magic thing!  It does magical stuff!  Here, take it ‘n’ sell it off back in town.  Take it to the lady with that weird eye, she’s nice and can appraise it for you for a good price.  It’s worth a lot, trust me.  Probably’d, rent you… food Idunnohere.”  Without waiting for a reply she slipped it over his head, patted said head, and got back to packing.  He clamped a hand over his head with a frown and looked down at the pendant.  

‘What does it do?’ he thought.

“It gives you the ability t’read aloud your thoughts.” Murid replied over her shoulder.

‘Oh ok, well it would be worth a lot if itWAIT WHAT?!’

“Well, I’m assuming y’can’t talk ‘cuz you’re a mute?” Murid guessed, looking at him.  Todd stared her.  How could she hear him?  How was he talking?  He hadn’t spoken to anyone in years. No, no he couldn’t talk.  This necklace didn’t do anything, she was just playing a trick.  

‘She’s just trying to get rid of me with a trinket.’

“She’s just tryina get rid of me with a trinket,” Murid mimicked with her arms crossed.  

‘You can hear me?!’

“Y’can hear me?”

Todd made a face at her.  ‘Ok, you can stop copying me.’

“Ok you can stop copying me.”

‘I’m the ultimate fart master.’

“I’m the ultimaHEY” and he laughed.  She came over to him, holding out her hand.

“Here, give it,” she gestured to his necklace.  He took it off and handed it to her.

“Ok, now say something.” She instructed.  She waited but not a peep came from him.  She re-placed the crystal against his collarbone.  

“Now say something.”

‘…what are you doing?’ Todd’s thoughts rang out clear in her mind, as if he were speaking aloud.

“See?  You can talk now.  Either use it to get a job or sell it off,” she said not unkindly, handing it back to him. He looked at her, the necklace, back at her and at the necklace again.

‘So you can actually hear me?’

“For goodness sake, yes.”

‘What number am I thinking of?’

“Potato- potato?” she stopped and gave him a weird look.

‘I wanted to make sure you weren’t lying,’ he grinned a sheepish grin.

“I am currently having a full on conversation with ya, how could I fake this?” she said dubiously.  Todd didn’t know what to say so he just offered another grin.  It stayed there and grew wider.

‘This, this is fantastic!  I can, I can talk to people now!  Sort of. No more flimsy sign language! Ever!  At all!  Hey how does my voice sound?  Is it deep? I bet its deep.’

“Ugh, well…” Murid began.  Todd’s heart immediately sank when she uttered the word ‘ugh’.  

“It’s kind of hard to describe.  Do you know how t’read?”  Todd shrugged.  “Ok, well… when you wrote your name inta the dirt, you sounded out the lettas in your head, right?” He nodded.  “And you said your name in your head?” He nodded again.  

“Your voice is kinda like that – when you’re reading something and you have that little voice inside your head that says the things you’re reading out loud, and you can hear it but your not forcing it.  It’s kinda like that.  As if I’m reading, the words, that you’re… saying.”  Murid looked back at Todd’s blank face.

“Y’know what telepathy is?” He nodded.  “You’re now telepathic, ‘s’long as you keep it on.” Explanation. Done.  

Murid motioned towards the fallen coat.  “Go ahead and put that on and get up.” She turned and pulled something out of her pocket.  He couldn’t see what it was until she threw it into the air; the marble caught the light and seemed to hang suspended in the air for a millisecond before it came back to Murid’s hand.  She flicked her hand around and smoke poured out, spreading long and tall.  The smoke solidified, forming a staff with a milky blue crystal ball at the end.  The more he looked at the ball the more details surfaced from within.  The centre was a pearly white, dissipating into a blue, semi-transparent outer layer.  Little fractures dotted throughout the sphere reflected and caught the light like tiny little stars.  Wow it was pretty.  And big.  Todd thought she could wallop someone in the head pretty good with that thing.  She chucked the staff out in front of her and it landed in the air sideways, hovering.  It grew stirrups, bristles at the other end and two metallic rotors.  

Well… This was the weirdest Monday.

“Ok.  Get on!” Murid stuck out her hand at the hovering broom with a big, plastered smile.

He raised an eyebrow at her.  They were going, to fly, on a broom? He had thought that at least that part about witches were just a myth.  Alright then.  

“How’s your feet?  Y’can walk, right?  I mean, you’re standing…” Murid nodded at him, breaking off his thoughts.  Todd looked at his legs.  Yes, he supposed he was standing.  He couldn’t… really feel his legs though…

“So you can walk?” Murid asked again.  Todd nodded, not moving.  ‘Just gimme a sec,’ he said off-handed.  Murid inched closer but didn’t say anything.  He brought a skeletal, veiny foot forward, and took one step.  He smiled at Murid, showing her that he was ok and she raised an eyebrow.

Then his vision turned splotchy and a million bees were buzzing in his ears. He fell forward, feeling lighter than air and heavier than stone in a bizarre combination.  When his head stopped tingling and his eyes refocused, he realised he was looking up at the witch, her arms hooked under his armpits.

“So you can walk?” she asked again, both eyebrows arched.  He gave a sheepish smile.  Murid rolled her eyes and pushed him forward, giving herself room to manoeuvre his arm to sling around her shoulders.  The two hobbled over to her waiting broom and she made him place his hands on the broom to keep his balance.  

“Alright, now just hook your legs underneath my broom and hold on with your hands.” Murid instructed, lowering their ride a little.  

‘You’re so good with helping you should be a broom instructor.’ Todd cracked, lifting a shaking leg.  This caught Murid off guard and she spluttered.  

“Well if we’re goin’ off on talents here you should go talk to actors about howta faint!” she jeered.  

‘Ha.’

She looked at how he was seated and gave an over-the-top thumbs up and a wink. He squinted his eyes disapprovingly at her.  She got on in front and pulled a pair of goggles out from beneath her hood and fitted them over her eyes as Todd slowly leaned to one side and fell off.

After a few minutes of laughing Murid helped Todd back up.

“Ok enough fooling around!  I’ve really gotta go.”

‘Oh but I’m having so much fun.  Any other household items you want me to mount?  A tea pot perhaps?’  He barely got that joke out between his grinning and Murid doubled over, shaking.

“It’s a flipping impressive piece of magic and metal so stop makin’ fun of it!” She gasped.  

‘Doesn’t change the fact you can still sweep your floors with it.’

“Shut up!”  She looked at this grinning boy and she was glad that her eyes were full of tears of laughter, otherwise he would’ve noticed they were actual tears now.  This wasn’t fair.  

Her smile faded and her eyes grew wide when she heard them, her gaze growing hunted.  Her ears pricked and her stomach shot cold.  Todd noticed the change of mood and he gave her an odd look.  She looked off in the direction of the town and she listened, hearing their intent and their gadgets whirring and their… they were barking.  

“Ah, shivas tonight,” she breathed.  Murid didn’t give Todd an explanation; she just turned and grabbed the broom.  It reformed into a staff and she picked all of her campsite up, the pans, the rug, her violin, the stool, all in a dark purple vapour and moved it into her wagon with a wave of her arms.  She cringed, keeping her right arm stiff.

‘What’s wrong?’ Todd asked, utterly confused.  She ran to her wagon and sat down on the seat at the front before she looked at him and he could see the raw fear in her eyes.  She flickered them from the trees and back to him.  After a moment, she got up again and rushed over.

“Ok!  Todd Worthington!  Y’got one of two options because I gotta scarce myself immediately.  One: you go off and hide somewhere, wait for the Skinna’s to pass and get back t’your town and hope by the Five they don’t execute you for bein’ witha witch or Two: …you can come with me.” The last words hung in the air.  Her shoulders were so far up they were almost stapled to her ears and she was holding her breath.  After a heartbeat she reached her hand out.  Todd stared at her then down at her hand.  He could hear them now, a group of these “Green Skinners”.  He could hear strange machines whirring and beeping and horrible dogs booming.  He looked at her hand, looked into her eyes, grinned and took it.  Murid flinched like she’d been shocked, taking a moment to look at his rip and then at him in disbelief.  She made a better hold on his hand and hauled him over to her wagon, Todd running like a newborn foal.      

‘Uuuuhhh, shouldn’t we be getting away from these people?’

“We are.”

‘Then why are we sitting on a wagon that’s stuck to the ground?’

Murid reached up and pulled down a smooth pumpkin vine, holding them like reigns.

“Who said it was stuck?” she tilted her head, and pulled.  The vines that encased the wagon moved, writhing like snakes and he felt the air rush past his ears and his stomach drop.  He looked over the side and gasped; they were very high up.  Four strong, spindly vines held up the wagon like legs, each attached to a pumpkin below as if they were feet.  Murid raised and lowered and shifted her arms and the vines responded, swaying the wagon and turning towards the forest, the opposite direction of the town.  The trees were a bit dense.  Todd was worried they wouldn’t be able to make a quick getaway. Murid wasn’t.  She just raised them up high above the tree tops and now the path was clear as day.  Howls and whirrs resounded behind them and there was a woosh and Todd fell back against the force of the wagon leaping forward and they left the danger, the town, his home, her fear, and the morning behind them.  Before them was the day.

(pls tell me if you find spelling errors I somehow miss them???)

[maddinup]

Magic and Mettle

Chapter 2

A Kind Witch…?

 They boy struggled to breathe as he twisted and turned and ran and drowned in his dream.  Angry colours at first and then twisted trees enveloped him, terror gripping his mind. He tried to run from the monsters who gave chase, but a great tidal wave rose up and swallowed him, leaving him in the suffocating dark…

 ~          ~          ~

 His mind slowly awoke from its sleep, though his eyes remained closed. He tried to remember what woke him and images of his nightmare came back and his heart began to race.  Trying to sit up set him into more of a frenzied panic as his body seemed locked into place, like he was paralysed.  The dream, the nightmare he had had, once so vivid now seemed so lost, dissipating like steam in the wind while he tried to remember what the heck had happened.  He cracked an eye open to get his bearings but snapped it shut almost immediately as the piercing morning light stabbed his eye.  

Squinting his eyes open, the black shapes surrounding his vision turned into frost-bitten trees.  A light fog hung in the air and grey clouds choked the sky.  His senses became aware of a sizzling sound and the quiet plinking of strings pulled in a melody.  

He tried stretching his head backward to look above and got a face full of pumpkin.  That wasn’t what he had been expecting.  

The sensation of not being able to move proved too great as panic started to rise inside him.  He twisted and turned, a searing pain from his ribs ripping across his torso as he tried to find out what on earth was going on.  He rolled onto his side in his struggle, an arm stuck down, the other across his chest, cheek in the dirt, facing the music - and froze.

 ~          ~          ~

 The witch sat on her stool, looking at her surroundings with bleary eyes, breathing in the crisp, morning air. With ice shards lining everything like cream on a cake, the temperature was colder than an ice selkie's breath.  

Ice selkies were like these adorable chinchillas that looked like their bodies had been stretched long and turned white.  They were deadly because people would pick them up and suddenly freeze as its breath froze them from their adorable tiny mouths.  There was an epidemic for a while before a doctor made a cure for the frozen and a vaccine for the untouched.  Now people could keep them as pets.

Usually prepared for this type of weather, she had wrapped herself in her thick, baggy, woollen pyjamas, hand knitted by her.  So of course there were holes, and so she also wore a dressing gown made from kangaroo fur and leather slippers with woollen insides.  Her long, wild hair hung down her back and shoulders, keeping the edges of her face warm.  She kept her stitched-up hat on her head for good measure.

Her arm was aching.

She had woken up two hours ago, and waited for the boy to wake up as well. She was supposed to be leaving today, and she couldn’t bring him with her.  After a while of waiting, she grew tired and got out her violin, hoping that maybe the melody would wake him up with ease.  Thirty seconds into her plan that wasn't working she grew frustrated.  She dug the bow across the strings, causing a cacophony of squeaking and the pain in her arm to flare and yelled “Wake up!”

Nothing.

Well, she couldn’t really blame him, being half starved and half dead.  At least he looked half dead.  Again, she hoped he wasn’t dead.

Having bad experiences with people before, she felt the need to practice introducing herself.  Not having much contact with the world at large left her feeling like she had missed out on learning social skills:

“Hello!  Oh my goodness I sound like a little girl.”

“Hiya mate, I’m Murid!  I... I’m a flippin’ captain of a pirate ship, wanna go across the seas?  UGH.”

“Hello I’m Mughidgrenthumnb- Greenthumb, Greeeeeenthumb…  I’m extremely glad you’re not conscious.”

“You’re alive right? …yep, you’re alive.”

“Hi I’m Murid and I really wish you’d wake up.  I need to leave.”

“Hello poor and malnourished boy whom I saved from death last night, I’m Murid. Wake up.”

“I. Am.  Murid. Greenthumb.  How.  Are. You?  As you can see, I barely interact with any other sentient beings.”

“Hi I’m Murid who are you why are you homeless.”

“Hi I - oh my goodness what am I doing.”

She grew bored and self-conscious, so she decided to just get on with breakfast.

So she sat on her stool, watching over the last of her eggs and bacon with a little remorse.  She had plenty of other food, but she had to steal this stuff - it's not like she had any pigs or chickens to make food from. Her violin lay across her legs as she played a quiet tune, plucking the strings and cradling her right arm.  

Alright, what on earth am I gonna do with this boy when he wakes up?  Murid pondered as she shifted in and out of thoughts.  Well feed him obviously, but what after that?  I don’t wanna try any introductions again, that went terribly and he wasn’t even conscious for that.  He’s in pretty bad shape.  I don’t know what kind of accommodation I can arrange for him; I can’t arrange anything. They’d probably execute him if they knew he’d been with a witch… I hope Thatcha’s ok.

She shifted her gaze to her wagon, covered entirely in vines and leaves of a pumpkin plant.  The boy was lying near one of the pumpkins.  Well, it’s not like I don’t have plenty of space…no, no, no, no, I don’t know this boy and for all I know he could be a witch hunter or something.  A homeless one.  Plus, he’s a human.  And why on earth would he wanna stay with me?  The only reason would be if he were really desperate.  Or, he could just stay with me until I come across a suitable village, or even an orphanage!  Then I can drop him off and be on my merry way!  Alone.

Murid gave barely a pause to that last thought.  She heard movement behind her but kept on strumming then stopped when she heard it a second time.  She looked behind her thinking He must be moving in his sleep agai- oh!” she started.  The boy was staring straight at her, twisted in his sleeping bag. Murid stared straight back at him, her heart rate rising with the colour in her cheeks.  Trying to keep calm, she had to remind herself that there was no way at all that this boy could harm her.  He was sick and his bones, while mended, would still be painful, there was no way he could harm her.  He was just a simple, injured human.  He couldn’t hurt her.  

He couldn’t hurt her.

“Uh, mo-morning!” Murid finally blurted, fumbling with her violin and words. She placed it down (the violin, not her words) and got up.  She then proceeded to trip over her violin, stumble, almost knock over the pan on the fire and hit her violin, the thing pulling notes on its own accord, and finally toppled the stool over to its side.  Murid got out of the entanglement and looked at the mess.  

“That wasn’t really what I wanted my first impression t’be...”  She muttered under her breath.  The boy continued to stare at the strange girl as she straightened her violin and up righted the stool and pan.  He didn’t dare move, even as she walked over to him (who was trying to act like nothing had happened).  

“Hello!  I – ugh… are you alright? ‘Cuz you look kind’v… caught up in that.” She pointed out, keeping at a safe distance.  He paused when she said this, taking a look down at himself, then tried to pull his arms out.  Murid let the show continue for a while but was getting frustrated just by watching him; she crouched on the balls of her feet and reached out with caution but he jerked away from her hands, making her jump.  Murid looked at him and recoiled back slowly, a resentful expression on her face.  

“I’ll, um – I’ve got your breakfast cooking.  I’ll just, go get it.” Murid muttered.  Her voice lilted with a strange accent, with her 'r's relaxed and her 'a's and 'ou's drawn out.  Her “i’s” sounded she was saying “i-ye” or “oi”.  And she seemed to mistake sentences for one big long word, joining two to three words at a time into one.  The boy finally got his arms out despite the fiery pain stabbing into his side, and shuffled back against the pumpkin behind him.  

He stared at this creature as she made her way around the camp fire, quiet terror gripping him.  He had seen her face, the colour of this girl’s skin and hair, the iconic style of that pointy hat – she was a witch.

Witches were vile.  They were evil, they were wicked, they were awful, and deemed justly so because of their use of Black Magic… whatever that was.  Ok, so he didn’t know what was so bad about Black Magic or what magic even was, but still, people talked about it with enough distaste for him to know it was a Bad Thing.  Being a witch meant that you lived in exile, banished to the wilderness, and you were to follow those rules unless you wanted to hang.  He had come across the carcass of a burnt down house in town once. Apparently, the couple had come into a close encounter with a witch from the outside as they were travelling back to their home town.  Simply for that, the witch had burned their house down.  Witches were bad, bad, bad, bad.  Even so, he had to admit… this one was prettier than what he had imagined them being.

Coming over with full hands, cutlery rattling, the witch laid a plate of food in front of him.  A clay mug followed next, full of steaming tea.  He noticed that she kept her right arm in a crooked position.  

“Ugh… food,” she pointed at the plate then hurried away.  The boy looked at the breakfast as if it were a live octopus. It was bacon and eggs, and it smelled delicious, but he couldn’t make sense of it; why was this witch giving him food?  Why had she not killed him yet, or used him as a specimen to test Black Magic on like all those horror stories he had heard about?  Who was she?  Why was she acting like a… like an actual person?  

He snapped his head up at the witch as she sat down in front of him, still keeping a distance between them.  She winced when she put down her mug and plate, rubbing her right arm.  Her eyes shifted up to him and he froze.  

“…food,” she pointed again.  

The boy looked at the steaming plate and then back at her.  “Because you kinda look like you haven’t eaten fer a while…” He continued to stare at her.  She sighed, putting down her fork.  

“Alright, here’s the deal O silent one.  We eat our breakfast, and if you don’t eat yours, I’m gonna have it, cuz I've been savin’ that beggs and acon.  UGH eggs and bacon.  And then I’m gonna bring you back inta town, and leave you there.  How’s that sound?”

Murid waited for some kind of reply from him; when it didn’t come, she just shrugged and tucked into her breakfast.  She looked like she was struggling to get the food on her fork, like she wasn’t used to her left hand.  His eyes trailed up and he studied her face.  She had laugh lines around her mouth, like she smiled a lot.  Her eyebrows were low and determined, but her eyes had a more innocent nature, more trust in them.  Looking at them he noticed something odd about the colour.  The left one was a light, sea blue while the other was dark blue, not quite black but… duller.

She raised an eyebrow at his gaze and he switched to his plate.  It occurred to him that he might anger the witch if he didn't eat her food.  Thinking fast he grabbed the fork and played around with it, hoping he looked like he was about to take a bite at any moment.

Murid leaned forward slowly.  “…y’do know what do with food right?”  she whispered loudly.  He flinched and looked at her.  

“Y’know, you cut it up, then you put in ya mouth, and then you chew-” The boy squinted and started nodding along with her, as if to say “Oh haha, very funny”. Murid stopped and snorted, smiling at him, and the boy surprised himself by smiling back.  Something changed in her face.

“I’m, Murid, by the way…” she introduced herself.  “What’s your name?”

The boy paused, considering his options.  Murid watched him quizzically as he grabbed a nearby stick and started scrawling in the dirt.  Murid tilted her head around to read the shaky writing.

“…Todd, Wor…Worthington?” she repeated aloud.  He nodded at her.  

“Well.  Hello!  Todd.” She gave a tentative grin.  He smiled back and took a nibble of the fried eggs.  That small nibble awoke a hunger in him that had since been dormant for weeks. With all honesty, he did not care if this food was poisoned or not, it tasted good and he was hungry, end of story.

 ~          ~          ~

 Murid doused the fire with a bucket of water before taking his and her plate.  The witch paused, looking from the dirty plates to the freshly put-out fire.  

“Darn it,” she whispered and clenched her fists.  “Ah I’ll clean ‘em later…”

Todd felt, so good.  But it was a painful kind of good; though his stomach had cried for food for weeks, finally giving it some made it realise it didn’t think it would get this far.  Now it was trying to remember what to do.  While he watched Murid move around her campsite, Todd thought, weighing his options and choices.  She looked like she was packing up.  He picked up his stick.

Murid came over to her… guest, fluffing a coat she got from the wagon.  “Alright, I got you a coat so you won’t be so cold…” she quietened when she saw him looking up at her, his stick pointing down at the ground.  More writing. It said, “what’s going to happen to me?”

“Oh…” was all Murid could mutter.  Todd thought it was because she found the answer hard to say, but really she was just thinking ‘Is this an existential question or is he literally asking me what I’m going to do with him in the next hour or so? ‘Cuz I don’t know what happens when you die’.  She decided it was the latter.  

“Um, well, I was going to take you as far as the edge o’ town.  Then leave… you there… y’know, like, like dropping you back home after a sleep ovah!” she gave a smile, but it was a forced one. She knew how cruel that sounded. Save a homeless guy’s life then leave him back in the situation that had gotten him into trouble before.  His eyes stared into hers, wandering.

“Look… I’m sorry I can’t help you more, but I’ve done all that I can.  I took you to the doc, almost got HIM in trouble, I saved your life and gave you a meal.  And if I could, I’d seeya every day and cook you meals and help you to find some way of livin’ and get’ya off the street.  But I’m a witch.”  She crouched on her haunches.  “I can’t DO anything.  If they saw you with me – the rest of the humans – thay’d kill me AND you.  Every moment you’re with me you’re in danger and it’s bad enough you’ve spent half a night with me.  Green Skinna’s, y’know how they work?” Todd shook his head and Murid’s face fell.  “Darn it I wish someone knew.  But what I do know is, thay can track me, like I’ve got a scent or something.  And that’s gonna rub off on you.”  Murid paused. “Not, not that I’m saying I smell. I-I take, baths, quite regularly th-thank you, I don’t stink.  I mean, mean that thay have devices, and thay know things I’ve been near if, if I linger-” Murid flailed her arms.  “Look, it’s just too much, ok!  I’m a danger t’you, and your a danger t’me… I’m sorry…” she shrugged with a grim look. He took a moment to take in what she was saying.  He knew she couldn’t take him in – he didn’t even think she’d offer – but he was hoping for help of some kind.  If he went back there and onto the street again, he’d…

His eyes pricked and his mouth contorted, biting away tears and he tried to hide his face.  The witch’s eyes widened; ok she’d expected him to be upset, but she didn’t expect him to cry.  Another bewildering thought slapped her - when did she get attached to him?!  

“Oh, um, ugh, oh gosh don’t- don’t cry, please, uh… HERE WAIT-” she yelled and bounded off, flinging away the coat as she darted into her wagon again.  Todd sniffed curiously; what could she possibly give him that would make this all better?  It may have been his ears playing tricks, but he swore when Murid ran out of the wagon again she had sounded far away, as if down in a long corridor. She jumped down and crouched in front of him, a necklace with an orange crystal pendant dangling from her hand. She was holding it out to him.

…

Was she bribing him?

“This!  Is a magic thing!  It does magical stuff!  Here, take it ‘n’ sell it off back in town.  Take it to the lady with that weird eye, she’s nice and can appraise it for you for a good price.  It’s worth a lot, trust me.  Probably’d, rent you… food Idunnohere.”  Without waiting for a reply she slipped it over his head, patted said head, and got back to packing.  He clamped a hand over his head with a frown and looked down at the pendant.  

‘What does it do?’ he thought.

“It gives you the ability t’read aloud your thoughts.” Murid replied over her shoulder.

‘Oh ok, well it would be worth a lot if itWAIT WHAT?!’

“Well, I’m assuming y’can’t talk ‘cuz you’re a mute?” Murid guessed, looking at him.  Todd stared her.  How could she hear him?  How was he talking?  He hadn’t spoken to anyone in years. No, no he couldn’t talk.  This necklace didn’t do anything, she was just playing a trick.  

‘She’s just trying to get rid of me with a trinket.’

“She’s just tryina get rid of me with a trinket,” Murid mimicked with her arms crossed.  

‘You can hear me?!’

“Y’can hear me?”

Todd made a face at her.  ‘Ok, you can stop copying me.’

“Ok you can stop copying me.”

‘I’m the ultimate fart master.’

“I’m the ultimaHEY” and he laughed.  She came over to him, holding out her hand.

“Here, give it,” she gestured to his necklace.  He took it off and handed it to her.

“Ok, now say something.” She instructed.  She waited but not a peep came from him.  She re-placed the crystal against his collarbone.  

“Now say something.”

‘…what are you doing?’ Todd’s thoughts rang out clear in her mind, as if he were speaking aloud.

“See?  You can talk now.  Either use it to get a job or sell it off,” she said not unkindly, handing it back to him. He looked at her, the necklace, back at her and at the necklace again.

‘So you can actually hear me?’

“For goodness sake, yes.”

‘What number am I thinking of?’

“Potato- potato?” she stopped and gave him a weird look.

‘I wanted to make sure you weren’t lying,’ he grinned a sheepish grin.

“I am currently having a full on conversation with ya, how could I fake this?” she said dubiously.  Todd didn’t know what to say so he just offered another grin.  It stayed there and grew wider.

‘This, this is fantastic!  I can, I can talk to people now!  Sort of. No more flimsy sign language! Ever!  At all!  Hey how does my voice sound?  Is it deep? I bet its deep.’

“Ugh, well…” Murid began.  Todd’s heart immediately sank when she uttered the word ‘ugh’.  

“It’s kind of hard to describe.  Do you know how t’read?”  Todd shrugged.  “Ok, well… when you wrote your name inta the dirt, you sounded out the lettas in your head, right?” He nodded.  “And you said your name in your head?” He nodded again.  

“Your voice is kinda like that – when you’re reading something and you have that little voice inside your head that says the things you’re reading out loud, and you can hear it but your not forcing it.  It’s kinda like that.  As if I’m reading, the words, that you’re… saying.”  Murid looked back at Todd’s blank face.

“Y’know what telepathy is?” He nodded.  “You’re now telepathic, ‘s’long as you keep it on.” Explanation. Done.  

Murid motioned towards the fallen coat.  “Go ahead and put that on and get up.” She turned and pulled something out of her pocket.  He couldn’t see what it was until she threw it into the air; the marble caught the light and seemed to hang suspended in the air for a millisecond before it came back to Murid’s hand.  She flicked her hand around and smoke poured out, spreading long and tall.  The smoke solidified, forming a staff with a milky blue crystal ball at the end.  The more he looked at the ball the more details surfaced from within.  The centre was a pearly white, dissipating into a blue, semi-transparent outer layer.  Little fractures dotted throughout the sphere reflected and caught the light like tiny little stars.  Wow it was pretty.  And big.  Todd thought she could wallop someone in the head pretty good with that thing.  She chucked the staff out in front of her and it landed in the air sideways, hovering.  It grew stirrups, bristles at the other end and two metallic rotors.  

Well… This was the weirdest Monday.

“Ok.  Get on!” Murid stuck out her hand at the hovering broom with a big, plastered smile.

He raised an eyebrow at her.  They were going, to fly, on a broom? He had thought that at least that part about witches were just a myth.  Alright then.  

“How’s your feet?  Y’can walk, right?  I mean, you’re standing…” Murid nodded at him, breaking off his thoughts.  Todd looked at his legs.  Yes, he supposed he was standing.  He couldn’t… really feel his legs though…

“So you can walk?” Murid asked again.  Todd nodded, not moving.  ‘Just gimme a sec,’ he said off-handed.  Murid inched closer but didn’t say anything.  He brought a skeletal, veiny foot forward, and took one step.  He smiled at Murid, showing her that he was ok and she raised an eyebrow.

Then his vision turned splotchy and a million bees were buzzing in his ears. He fell forward, feeling lighter than air and heavier than stone in a bizarre combination.  When his head stopped tingling and his eyes refocused, he realised he was looking up at the witch, her arms hooked under his armpits.

“So you can walk?” she asked again, both eyebrows arched.  He gave a sheepish smile.  Murid rolled her eyes and pushed him forward, giving herself room to manoeuvre his arm to sling around her shoulders.  The two hobbled over to her waiting broom and she made him place his hands on the broom to keep his balance.  

“Alright, now just hook your legs underneath my broom and hold on with your hands.” Murid instructed, lowering their ride a little.  

‘You’re so good with helping you should be a broom instructor.’ Todd cracked, lifting a shaking leg.  This caught Murid off guard and she spluttered.  

“Well if we’re goin’ off on talents here you should go talk to actors about howta faint!” she jeered.  

‘Ha.’

She looked at how he was seated and gave an over-the-top thumbs up and a wink. He squinted his eyes disapprovingly at her.  She got on in front and pulled a pair of goggles out from beneath her hood and fitted them over her eyes as Todd slowly leaned to one side and fell off.

After a few minutes of laughing Murid helped Todd back up.

“Ok enough fooling around!  I’ve really gotta go.”

‘Oh but I’m having so much fun.  Any other household items you want me to mount?  A tea pot perhaps?’  He barely got that joke out between his grinning and Murid doubled over, shaking.

“It’s a flipping impressive piece of magic and metal so stop makin’ fun of it!” She gasped.  

‘Doesn’t change the fact you can still sweep your floors with it.’

“Shut up!”  She looked at this grinning boy and she was glad that her eyes were full of tears of laughter, otherwise he would’ve noticed they were actual tears now.  This wasn’t fair.  

Her smile faded and her eyes grew wide when she heard them, her gaze growing hunted.  Her ears pricked and her stomach shot cold.  Todd noticed the change of mood and he gave her an odd look.  She looked off in the direction of the town and she listened, hearing their intent and their gadgets whirring and their dogs barking.

“Ah, shivas tonight,” she breathed.  Murid didn’t give Todd an explanation; she just turned and grabbed the broom.  It reformed into a staff and she picked all of her campsite up, the pans, the rug, her violin, the stool, all in a dark purple vapour and moved it into her wagon with a wave of her arms.  She cringed, keeping her right arm stiff.

‘What’s wrong?’ Todd asked, utterly confused.  She ran to her wagon and sat down on the seat at the front before she looked at him and he could see the raw fear in her eyes.  She flickered them from the trees and back to him.  After a moment, she got up again and rushed over.

“Ok!  Todd Worthington!  Y’got one of two options because I gotta scarce myself immediately.  One: you go off and hide somewhere, wait for the Skinna’s to pass and get back t’your town and hope by the Five they don’t execute you for bein’ witha witch or Two: …you can come with me.” The last words hung in the air.  Her shoulders were so far up they were almost stapled to her ears and she was holding her breath.  After a heartbeat she reached her hand out.  Todd stared at her then down at her hand.  He could hear them now, a group of these “Green Skinners”.  He could hear strange machines whirring and beeping and horrible dogs booming.  He looked at her hand, looked into her eyes, grinned and took it.  Murid flinched like she’d been shocked, taking a moment to look at his rip and then at him in disbelief.  She made a better hold on his hand and hauled him over to her wagon, Todd running like a newborn foal.      

‘Uuuuhhh, shouldn’t we be getting away from these people?’

“We are.”

‘Then why are we sitting on a wagon that’s stuck to the ground?’

Murid reached up and pulled down a smooth pumpkin vine, holding them like reigns.

“Who said it was stuck?” she tilted her head, and pulled.  The vines that encased the wagon moved, writhing like snakes and he felt the air rush past his ears and his stomach drop.  He looked over the side and gasped; they were very high up.  Four strong, spindly vines held up the wagon like legs, each attached to a pumpkin below as if they were feet.  Murid raised and lowered and shifted her arms and the vines responded, swaying the wagon and turning towards the forest, the opposite direction of the town.  The trees were a bit dense.  Todd was worried they wouldn’t be able to make a quick getaway. Murid wasn’t.  She just raised them up high above the tree tops and now the path was clear as day.  Howls and whirrs resounded behind them and there was a woosh and Todd fell back against the force of the wagon leaping forward and they left the danger, the town, his home, her fear, and the morning behind them.  Before them was the day.

Author’s note: This is the second chapter of my novel!  Tell me what you think and if you’d like to read more! MAn I dunno I just like wriiitiiiing stooriiieeesss...