It paid to be a shadow on the wall sometimes, Azariah had discovered a festival taking place, but fear had bubbled up and prevented her from attending. It could have proved to be a good time to stock up on potions and tonics, supplies she would need for her time on her own. The witch made her way back north, away from the crowds and travelers going to join the throng, Umbra flying above her to scout the area and tell her which route to take. Booted paws silently cupped the earth as she came upon a waterfall, the only sign that the ghost even approached was a tinkling bell found at her neck on a collar. The masked woman emerged seemingly from nowhere, suddenly just there to anyone who happened to be around, delicately lapping at the surface of the water at the base of the falls. One moment the bank would seem empty, then another moment and the apparition was there. Dark red eyes search beneath the wolf skull that adorned her delicate face, landing on the earthen figure of a rather large male just a short distance away. Ears tipped forward in interest, though she dares not to approach for the moment, memories of the vicious Lucifer still fresh in her tormented mind.
Umbra crowed overhead, looking at the male too as she warned Azariah just a moment too late, causing the much smaller female to look up at her friend who gestured toward the earthen behemoth. It was a clear indication to speak to the male, but anxiety born from her first meeting of a male stopped her. With a frustrated huff, Umbra came to land at the witch's side, peering at her through one eye as she addressed the wolf.
With Umbra off in search of accommodation, Azariah was effectively left to her own devices, and the overly large male. Soon enough, what she believed to be the faeries she had been waiting for began to show themselves. The lights she saw were in fact fireflies, but she mistook them and her mind did the rest. Some became faeries, twinkling in different pastel colors, others remained the glowing bugs they were in reality. The witch was aware that not every wolf had the Sight, as she called it, nor did they all believe in it. The affliction was one she kept to herself unless there was a particularly naughty fae about. They seemed to collect around the male, and as evening fell they became the only light aside from the stars and the moon. Huffing as her so-called friends gave her the sign she had been dreading, Azariah silently made her way closer to the male, stopping a respectful distance away. The black magic woman made sure to keep herself out of strike range, and made her delicate voice just loud enough to be heard over the falls.
If he was not on a rather high alert, he might never have heard her approach, her bell's tinkling swallowed by the roar of the nearby waterfall and her paws naturally silent. Dipping her head, Azariah removed her skull mask and revealed her true face, hoping she hadn't startled the scarred male. It was rude to remain hidden once someone was greeted, after all. In an effort to steady her nerves, Azariah moved to look at the waterfall. Reclining on her haunches, she seemed relaxed on the inside, but there was a war inside her mind about whether to bolt or remain in place and hope for the best. She had decided to remain unless things seemed to take a turn for the worst, praying to any gods that would listen to the witch that the stranger would not be like Lucifer.
