To the witches I have known

And just like that, winter had come again. It was desperation after the flooding that led to the Archer-Lyall even mentioning the hut. Now as she walked through the frigid swamplands, hackles up and head swivelling, her lip curled as she remembered the last time she was here. Sedna was suddenly deeply regretting her offer to lead the expedition. She could swear the stress of her last visit had shaved at least a year or two off her life. Carnivorous flowers and monstrous fucking toads. Not to mention that witch…

The monochrome wolf held her breath for a moment. She was kinda counting on the old hag not being home so they could ah… borrow some of her stores. It’d be easier that way she was sure, and it wasn’t like she wasn’t leaving payment. Sedna had some trinkets she had traded for in Otis’s pack, a large fish wrapped in a pair of her personal salvaged fox furs. Sure it would have been plenty useful for the coming winter, but she didn’t want the witch coming after her again. Laden down she continued to trudge through the mud, hoping she wouldn’t get them turned about.