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The Stray
The Forest Witch, Pt. 1

The Forest Witch, Pt. 1

If Timothy’s head was a book, it had fallen open to two blank pages. His mouth opened, closed, opened again, and just sort of hung there as he stared up into the tree. Well, now what did he do? The witch felt a stab of embarrassment. Aw, frass, am I really worse at talking to kids than life-draining smoke monsters? Apparently, yes! The last time he'd seen another being up this close had been, oh, about seven years ago, so on the one hand, he couldn't really blame himself. On the other, he was supposed to be a darn witch!

Oh, he'd spoken with plenty of strange things in his time here, from monsters to spirits to plants. But all of them were different from talking to another twolegger. Beasts were easy, 'cuz they basically just wanted what he did; to be safe and fed. But with people… Timothy didn't even know where to begin, except that the last few times he’d met a person, they’d tried to kill him. Or capture him to kill him. Or alerted someone… so they could kill him. His stomach churned, and he swallowed hard.

Okay, okay, calm down and think, Timothy, he scrambled in his mind, maybe she’s like a nightwinder? They both have scales and fangs and all. Ugh, no, that’s dumb, cuz otherwise I’m like an humoggi. Argh! Gimme a colony of spiders any day!

Plus… these days, he didn’t bother trying to cover up the Lusundra brand on his forehead. He had the symbol of the world’s evillest dragon burned into his face, angry and foul as the day it’d surfaced. It was like a livestock brand, but it would never heal or even be bidden by his fur. He could hide it with a rag, but what was the point? It wasn’t like the monsters cared. And even covered up, if he got too overwhelmed it tended to activate itself, and the harsh light it let out shone right over any covering. (It would also alert pretty much every critter around.)

Okay, no, focus! Timothy managed to dig up enough calm from somewhere in his very short witch training to have a real look up the tree. And his heart just fell. The poor thing was shaking so bad the leaves were rustling, and she was still hidden, cocooned in her wings. He could hear her whimpering, and her scent had only grown more sour and burning and sharp from terror. Crap, she probably thought he was hostile after that whole conversation-- especially since she had only understood his half. And she was so tiny! And probably cold and hungry, the poor thing. I’m an idiot. Timothy set his jaw, and took a deep breath.

“U-um, hello up there!” He winced at the sound of his own voice. It didn't sound much less growly than before. It wasn't a problem talkin' to monsters, but to an already terrified little girl… yipes. Her ears popped out of her wings like they were on a spring, and she slowly, shiveringly swiveled them onto him.

"Go away!" she squeaked. Oh, poor thing, she was trying to sound brave. His heart hurt. Timothy smiled encouragingly, before he wondered… Wait, could full dragons see in the dark? D'oh. He almost smacked himself. With a small sigh, he flicked his wrist, and let a pale red flame bloom into being over his hand. Making even this much light in the Deepshadow made him fidgety, but he didn't have much choice if she was to see him.

“It’s okay, littlun, I ain’t gonna hurt you.” Timothy's voice came out softer, gentler this time. "I came because I heard you screaming."

The dragoness's shaking began to slow a little, and she poked her eyes out above her wings. She blinked into the light, and a silly part of him sat up and pointed out that she did have two sets of eyelids, like in his granny's stories! And she had little bitty twist horns, like a goat!

"Y'mean it?" Her voice was a little lower, but still shaky and high.

"I promise." And this time his smile came out more natural. "Here, lass, come down into the light before you fall an' hurt yourself."

She didn't move to climb down, but she did relax her wings. "Who are you?"

“My name’s Timothy. I'm sorta the local witch." He waved a little. “Don’t worry, I’m the nice kind, more’r less.”

Timothy stepped back at her sudden change of expression. Her face flew from anxious to delighted in the span of a second, and she gasped way too loudly. "Ooh! That means you might be able to help me!"

The witch smiled cheekily, despite himself. "I mean, I just did."

"Well, yeah, I guess, but-- oh, so that's why you were talking to it!" Her pitch was only growing more excited. "You must be a witch!"

Timothy chuckled, though at least half of it came from confusion. "Well, I did just say so…"

"An’ just t'make sure, you're not actually a monster or something, right?"

Timothy snorted. "If I were, don'tcha think I'da let the critter eat you? Or beat it up so I could eat you myself? Or--"

The dragoness actually giggled. "Okay, okay!" Well, at least she was smiling. That was good! Timothy breathed a small sigh of relief. The small dragoness shook herself out like she was stiff, and then clambered down the tree headfirst. Woah! Her claws musta been sharper than they looked to pull that off— even with magic he couldn’t climb that fast. In short order, she hopped up to her feet, and came closer into the light. She was still shaky, but her relief at being saved just radiated from her. “Thanks, mister. That really sucked!"

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The witch just shuddered. "Yeah, seriously." And to his surprise, she giggled again. Then she got a closer look at his face, and gasped. The look of shock on her face made him step back uneasily.

“W-why do you have a fake clan brand burned on your head?” She stepped back, too. “You’re a wolf!”

Well, crap. She was gonna think he was some kinda crazy Lusundra cultist or something. He sighed. “No, it’s real.” He clenched his fist, and the symbol blazed into harsh white light. She stared in confusion, before blinking and revealing her own— a golden heart, crossed by a sweeping, glittering wind. It was way nicer looking than his eclipsed sun, and unlike his wasn’t anchored to burned flesh.

“You’re a halfie? A Lusundra halfie?” She stared.

Halfie? Seriously? “Yeah. It’s a long story.” He let his brand burn out, returning to normal. “You should put yours away, light makes you a target in these here woods.” Her light winked out a moment later. “What are you doing here? These woods ain’t safe, pup.”

“I, uh…” she was still staring at his forehead. Timothy groaned. And this was why he stayed in the woods.

“Right… so, what’s your name? You can call me Timothy.” When she still didn’t answer, he snapped his fingers in front of her, startling her. “My eyes are down here, y’know.”

“Oh! Um, s-sorry. I’ve just never met anyone from clan Lusundra. In school they said you guys were all dead, or in the wastelands.”

“It ain’t ‘you guys.’ I was born in a Vol village, raised by kindre. Quite a while after the war, obviously. I ain’t one of those scum— so don’t fear me.” He shrugged. “Also I just saved your life. Your name, pup?”

“Um, sorry.” The little dragoness looked chastised, and his face softened just a little. “I’m Meri. An’ young dragons are called whelps.” To her credit, the little dragoness rallied quickly to change the subject. “Um— what was that thing?”

Safer territory, at least. Timothy half-smiled. “An humoganth.” Timothy explained. “Smoke spirits, born from wildfire-burned bodies. I guess he thought you looked good to eat.” Meri gulped. “—Er, nevermind that. Are you alright, littlun? You’re real far from home.”

She glanced furtively away, but puffed her chest out proudly, like some kind of warrior hero. It looked a little silly on a girl smaller than he was. “I-I'm okay! I'm here on a quest to find the Night Lady!” Timothy blinked in confusion. Before he could ask, she gasped and her eyes suddenly got super bright with joy. “Ooh! Wait a second, do you know her? Since you’re a witch and all, right?”

“Err… I’m afraid I don't know a Night Lady, little one.” Timothy awkwardly tried to return her smile.

“Aww.” Meri huffed. “Guess it wouldn’t be a good quest if it was easy. Gosh, though, I didn’t think anyone lived here but monsters n’spirits.” Beat. “Is it cuz you’re clanless?”

Clanless… “Don’t call me that, I just told you I ain’t one of those Wastelander weirdos.” The Wastelands were full of remnants of Lusundra’s followers, all kinds of horribly mutated wildlife, and wandering undead. Timothy was a marked man, but he wasn’t some kinda Lusundra partisan. Being mistaken for one was yet another reason to avoid people like Meri. “Look, you need to get out of here, Meri, ‘less you want the next beast to come along to snack on ya.”

"Naw, I'm a big dragoness! You don't gotta worry about me!" She lightly pounded her chest, and his skeptical look spoke volumes. "You should know, since you were talkin' about being scared of dragons earlier!"

Hrm. Timothy breathed out a low breath, and had a sudden bad feeling that plan was about to bite him in the butt. He stooped down close to her. "Well, yeah, but you’re a little dragon yet. Your family--"

"Oh!" Before he could chide her any more, Meri slapped her forehead. Maybe she felt a lecture coming on. “I gotta find my broom, mister!” Before he could stop her, the littlun scampered off out of the clearing, painfully loudly. Timothy groaned under his breath. This is gonna be an issue, isn't it? Unlike finding her. Well, at least she's not mad that I used her people as boogeymen…

Timothy hurried to follow, chasing the very loud scrabbling and rustling. The kid really wasn't used to these woods, though, so she didn't get far before he saw her about to dive headfirst into a spiker bush! “Wait!” He thrust his hand out and a lash of darkness sliced forward, catching the back of her shirt and reeling her back. “You can't just dive into that! You know what that’d do to your eyes? Your throat? Geez, you're already wounded, pup!"

“You can tell?” Meri’s eyes were wide. “Gosh, you really are a witch!” Well, it was more of a wolf thing than witch thing, but either way. Completely unconcerned with how close she'd come to putting her eyes out on a bush's long, slender needles, she wriggled free of his magic and plopped to the ground. The wolf groaned.

"Meri, I'm serious! Spikerbrush needles can kill if you fall in hard enough." He shook his head and, with another tentacle of magic, reeled her over to him. "Heck, even if ya don't die, the nasty spirits that like to live in'em will curse the heck out of you. You don't want any of that, pup!"

Meri hopped to her feet, still wrapped in his darkness. "You sound like my big brother-- I've got scales!"

"Your brother has scales too, so I'd listen to his opinion." Timothy shook his head. "Look, before you go digging around for your flying broom, tell me where you're hurt."

She rolled her eyes, but lifted her left arm to show him. “Here.” Timothy winced at the sight of four long, thin gashes. They oozed blood, which was making a kind of ruddy mud from the dirt she was caked in. Timothy hastily sprayed a spirit warding spell onto the wound. The greenish mist settled onto the wound in a shimmering coat.

“That’s a ‘ganth claw wound.” Timothy scolded. “You can’t leave that unattended too long. When’d you get it?”

“One of the cat spirits clawed me when it knocked me off my broom.” She giggled nervously. “It— it’s not really that bad, right? It doesn’t hurt or nothin’.”

“That’s because it drained your spirit from it. Y'can't feel how much it's hurting.” The witch gulped and shook his head. “We need to treat that before you… before…” wait. Timothy trailed off. “Wait, did you say ‘one of the spirits’!?”

Suddenly, a soft sound rolled through the clearing. It was like frozen wind scraping against groaning windows, and it made Timothy’s fangs itch. Frass! The witch put his staff up, and let the tentacle holding Meri melt away. “How many were there!?” He hissed low.

“T-three!” Meri squeaked, surprised at the change in tone. But she shrank behind him in (fully justified!) fear all the same. And that just confirmed what he was dreading. Out of the corners of his ears, the scraping and groaning melded into a chorus of low growls. The smell of burning overwhelmed the smell of Meri’s blood, and the other forest scents. The air around them slowly darkened with smoke. Three pairs of red eyes glowed in the darkness.