winter has come.

seems clear that he won’t get anything out of her, won’t manage to get the response his boss so dearly wants, but he can’t say he expected anything more. someone doesn’t live for this long in the middle of a war by swapping sides at the tiniest coaxing.

      ❛ i don’t take food from cranky old ladies living in the wood, don’t you worry. i was just hoping we could have a polite conversation. ❜   like he’d ever been polite in his damn life without the wrath of someone more powerful hanging over his head.   ❛ salem sent me. sure you know the spiel by now, or do you want a refresher? ❜ 

     she doesn’t have the time or energy to get upset about his ‘cranky old lady’ comment. even still, salem’s name seems far more important to the conversation.

well, he could admire a healthy skepticism. especially when he was, as she suspected, up to something.

      ❛ maybe i am. do i look like someone who sends a lot of time in forests, ma’am? ❜   mock respect, as if he thinks he still has any hope of salvaging this plan, but he knows full well he doesn’t. she’s too suspicious and he isn’t good at this, isn’t good at persuasion and sweet talk. it should be emerald here, but she’s too valuable.

          ❛ don’t waste my time, boy. i’m an old woman, not a charity; who sent you? ❜

     her arms cross firmly over her chest as she glares at him. her eye, dark and singular, still manages to  b u r n  holes through him. he has something he wants to say, she can tell.

          ❛ might i ask just why a young man like yourself is so far in the woods--alone? ❜  her tone is dry, lacking emotion. despite the patch over her eye and the scarves covering a fair amount of her face, her blank expression is far too obvious.

                                                       mirror, mirror                                                 tell me  s o m e t h i n g                                              𝔴𝔥𝔬'𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔢𝔰𝔱 𝔬𝔣 𝔞𝔩𝔩?