The three old hags gathered around the table, each feverously glancing at each other, wondering which direction this interaction would go. Like Fleas waiting to jump, or a couple of cats looking for a moment to pounce for the mouse between them.
If only it were so easy. No, this was more like a smoldering fuse on a keg of powder, and everyone was terrified that it was about to explode and end it all, it would've been less painful.
Valentina was the first to start, handkerchief pressed firmly against her nose. While smelling like chamomile, the tea in front of her had a dark shade that belied a twisted potency, very unbecoming of the herbal flower. Not to mention the swamp of moist rotting detritus emanating from the walls. Dorothy was looking down at her cup with a mix of confusion and slight disdain. She sniffed it briefly, then drank it without hesitation with a thick slurp as the dark liquid dribbled slightly from the cracked tea set.
Valentina coughed politely and turned to Francesca. She was, torn, as to what to say. The woman looked almost like a hag, but the way she moved sometimes felt younger, it was a strange and strained at the same time. By all right Francesca was only two years older than herself, but in appearance, she looked almost as if Centuries had passed her by her semi-vacant eyes. Valentina's heart was torn open slightly, there was hardly any life in her, but the sorrow struck a bedrock of resolve. She would not remain this way, Not after so long alone in the world.
"Fran?" Valentina started slowly, cautious, like a child dipping their toes to test the waters. "How, how have you been?" the question was almost redundant. They could see how she'd been living, Even Dorothy, slob that she was, had cringed and winced at the sight of so much filth in the place. Francesca turned to face her friends, a wide dopey grin on her face, smiling with teeth that were stained yellow.
"Oh, it's good to see you again, Val. Aren't the trees lovely in autumn?" Her gaze drifted to some other place for a moment, before, like her whole body was string pulled tight and plucked, her gaze dropped back to earth like a stone, and she stared Dorothy straight on. "Dorothy, I've told you a hundred times to keep your animals outside; they're making a mess." The shocked expression on Dorothy's face as she stammered a response.
"Bu-but I can't help it they just follow me in and I-" Francesca shook her head "I swear girl, you've got to set boundaries with those things or they'll walk all over you. They're Pets, not children. Children learn, animals just do as they please." Then turning her gaze towards Valentina, with a glare in her eye that made her flinch "And you Valentina, quit wearing those obnoxious black veils, you're not a widow in mourning, no matter how much you loved that pigeon!"
Valentina blinked before her mind placed the conversation she'd been roped into, a memory, one from very long ago. "But Francesca, that was nearly, Twelve years ago! I haven't thought about dear Ashely in ages!" She started, Fran on the other hand wouldn't hear it, "I don't care, and another thing, Call me Fran, not Francesca. You sound like my mother, the old coot." she scoffed and Valentina actually had to smile for a moment, but then grimaced in equal measure. "Of course, Fran" It was still hard for her to say it. The informality always irked her.
France—Fran glanced around the room once more, her expression softening and becoming more natural. "Oh, oh dear, I've gone and lost myself again." She muttered, turning to her friends, recognition and a clear thought on her face. "When, when did you two get here, oh by the nine?" She paused. "How long has it been since I've seen your faces?" she whispered, frightened like a child.
Valentina reached for her friend, taking up her weathered hands in her own, "Too long, Fran, far too long." And despite her unflinching exterior, Valentina could feel the tears on her face. Dorothy laid her hand on the feeble woman's shoulders in support as they all came to put their frayed edges back together, and of course, cry.
After the moment of tender reconciliation passed, Fran tried to choke out a laugh, before spotting the teapot and became worried "Oh, you didn't drink that did you-?" the two of them paused, Dorothy rose and started to hurry for the door. There was a small patter of laughter as she ran off, a small herd of dogs and cats behind her, the goose honking like a fire truck's bell.
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"she hasn't changed much has she?" Fran asked quietly, Valentina shook her head slightly "not, not by much." was her answer. The was a pause, a moment of silence as the simply tried to hold on to the feelings swirling between them.
"Valentina, I- I'm scared" Fan admitted "I- I can feel it slipping, I don't want to go back in there..." Valentina held her, holding and rocking her gently, trying to shush away her fears gently. "Don't fret Fran, were here now, and we'll fix it this time, you won't be alone now. Never again..."
Valentina, reaching deep, pulled upon that deep inner warmth, and pressed it against the trembling form of Fran. "Can you feel that? the vitae?"
Fran closed her eyes, shaking her head. "It- it's like a chimney that's all blocked up, the haze in my mind, choking my thoughts. I-I can feel the warmth, but it's been so long since I-" Something flicked in her face, Valentina could tell she was starting to fade. "Fran? Fran! Hang onto it, hang onto the warmth! Please Fran don't go!"
A struggle between them ensued, the force of Valentina's warmth versus the boulder weighing down on the mind of her dear friend. In the end, one of them had to give. Valentina gasped as she let go, the effort of trying to stave off the inevitable dusk of the mind having drained her with the herculean effort. As a piece of Francesca died in her arms, a piece of Valentina nearly died with it. But the woman's core was like cold iron, hard and unflinching. She cut that piece away, watching it grow cold in front of her as Frans mind dimmed back into something less than human. The cold meant little to her, but there was a friend trapped in that cold dark, like fortress gates staring back at her.
"Don't worry Fran" she whispered "We'll see each other again. I promise, it will be very soon." The old crone in her arms smiled to this, and with one last spell, fell into a peaceful slumber.
Dorothy returned, wiping her mouth and with a green pallor to her face. "Is she-" the question holding the expectation of terrible portents. Valentina shook her head. "No, merely sleeping, It's the best I could do for now." she sighed, Dorothy stood up a little straighter as she paced through the kitchen. "Could we still do it?" she asked, Valentina looked and with steel in her eyes answered with certainty.
"Yes."
With that confirmation, they began to discuss their plans. Unaware they were being observed, by the envying eyes of a dark form, sitting just behind them on the counter top. A cat that had come to sit there earlier in the proceedings, and had without a single twitch of movement, watched the entire exchange. Green yellow eye's flickering with an intellect not suitable for an animal, dark cunning that now licked its chops at the sight before it.
Witches, the one word was etched into the creatures mind. These sad weeping willows were, Witches. The long forgotten and grim mistresses of the art of Cold Pneuma, that which they'd referred to in the past as Miasma. He saw it hanging about their bodies, buried deep in their breasts as it's slow movements inhibited the passing of living fire within their bodies. Even now he observed the way they now began to apply this power. Dredging up Hard cold Miasma from deep in their souls, and applying it to the mind of their ill friend. Using the harder energies like pick and chisel to carve away at the malady. The chill in the air identical to the one used when, in her lucid moments, had seized control of the bodies of the vagrant animals of the house hold. That was a blunt cudgel, now, he would see them use scalpel.
Only when the two women stepped away, did that evil creature smile, and the cruel mind behind it, smiled too. Darwin was happy at what he'd seen, but that simple happiness soon slipped into the dark fires of his jealously as it burned inside his small frame. Envy like smoke rising from his mind, the ignoble ambitions rising in his mind like the smell of brimstone from the pits of Hell itself.
With such a mind observing these women, you'd be forgiven thinking the place was haunted. Valentina felt similarly, the smoldering gaze of that creature making her turn to stare at him, eye's narrowing to judge the source of such an abusing glare, but seeing only the shape of the cat, thought it to be only an illusion of the mind.