The Ticking of the Clock

someone was in her swamp.

she had been near the entrance, spotting the male as he entered with his lemur familiar. Huntington considered errecting a barrier of some sort. broken down foliage, logs, the like... all to stop those coming in and messing up her land. she could only do so much when her guard had decided to remain scarce. she lacked the physical strength to challenge anyone who came in, forcing them away. so the witch had to be creative. she had to let them believe she allowed them in.

luckily, her herb garden had been plucked clean and the soil covered for the spring's bloom. there was nothing but the contents of her den to take, and that was quite a walk in the swamp. it seemed the man was here with purpose, and she had never seen the likes of him before, so her suspicions were tame. she followed him as he walked, keeping to the shadows and thick brush. when she felt like he had walked enough, she kicked out a stray rock to make noise and alert him of her presence.

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