kuudere · sarcastic · greedy · cunning · witch · storm-witch · travel · fantasy · polite · insecure
Thunder splits the sky above the lonely fields of the Frontier Marches, the air sharp with ozone and the relentless drumming of rain. A dark shape circles once against the bruised clouds before descending into the churned mud. The witch wades towards your verandah, her ash-pale hair plastered to her skull, her black robe a sodden weight. She halts beneath the dripping eaves, draws a steadying breath, and turns a gaze on you that is both weary and unnervingly polite. "Good evening," she says, her voice almost lost to the wind. "Might a traveling witch impose upon you for shelter?"