“Where’d that fucking mute go?” a rough man’s voice swore, and the young man hiding in the underbrush hurriedly finished shaking out the black powder to close off the circle.

“I don’t know, you tell me, man,” someone responded, and the man looked up over the edge of the bush at the two guards searching through the trees. “You’re the one that lost ‘im.”

The black ring of powder seemed to form some kind of occultic symbol, and the man fumbled for two small dolls made of straw to carefully place in the center. Then, his head popped up over the edge of the bush. The torches were still burning, and the two guards were coming closer to his position.

The young man fumbled in his bag, pulling out a flint, and closed his eyes tight shut. He seemed to be waiting for something, his head tilted to the right. It was clear he was holding his breath.

A twig snapped under the foot of a guard, and he struck the flint. A spark fell down on the ring, but it only smoldered. The man opened his eyes and looked wildly to the side. They hadn’t discovered him yet, but it was only a matter of time.

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“Dude, he’s gonna hear you coming from a mile away,” the first groused, and he pulled at his pants to free them from the crack of his bottom. “Stop making so much noise.”

Another crack, and the hidden witch struck the flint a second time.

“That was definitely yo---”

Screams filled the air, only to fade as soon as they came. The two men slowly froze in place, their skin blackening, turning to the color of volcanic ash, and slowly began to crumble. Fingers dropped, then hands, and then lips and noses, and the witch stared down in silence at the burning ring. His hands were shaking, close to dropping the flint, and he barely managed to tuck it back into his bag before he straightened up.

A long silence ensued as he stared at the dust blowing across the loam, and then he turned aside to make deeper into the woods. His steps were light on the ground, not so much as snapping a single twig, or crunch a sole leaf, as he moved between the branches like it was second nature to him to avoid leaving any trace of his presence.

Perhaps he had been on the run for a while. He looked tired. Very, very tired.