⊰ @mccnss , prompt: 'try not to abuse your power.' ⊱ power must be given to those who would wield it. she has come across many who are too afraid of their abilities. it was a waste. the witch had been minding her own business, gathering herbs to buy for a spell. pressed to her palm was rosemary and mandrake. her daughter stays at the small inn they have bartered shelter at. the chaos in delilah's veins needed to be controlled before she could be around others. hence, the herbs.
it was all so sudden. one moment, she pulls out coin to pay and the next, feels a hand at her backside. the man who touches her is swaying and reeks of alcohol. come back to my place, honey. he whispers what he believes he will do to her in her ear. rage is potent in her veins. lips open to whisper an incantation that has the man backing away forcefully. the scum chokes on air. mikhaila turns to watch as he scratches at his throat, struggling to breathe. the fool ends up on his knees with watery bloodshot eyes and the look of terror upon expression. the shopkeeper tries to assist, but no one can figure out what is wrong. the invisible hand around his throat tightens until he is unconscious on the ground.
there is a satisfied curl at her lips whenever she turns and walks away. the man may wake or may not. truly, she does not care. words carry and reach her ears as she halts her steps before passing a pale-haired woman. no one but this stranger knew that the man's struggle had been caused by her. a bitter laugh passes her lips, ❝ abuse, is it? i believe that vermin got exactly what he was asking for. ❞ she turns upon the other to study the other's appearance. could it be that she has run into another witch? or simply another immortal being? this was not a common thing, so she finds herself quite curious. ❝ what would you know about power? seeing as you were the only one to see what truly conspired, i assume you have a history with magic? i have not run into someone like you for almost a century. ❞
