@minalariviere
Darkness had enveloped the woods in a thick blanket of silence. Helena, adored the day at this time. The night meant safety. It meant quiet and calm and concentration. The little witch stood to the edge of the woods, prowling the tree line like a hungry cat and begging to be allowed to venture inside.
Helena, however, was not here to learn or study. No. Her journey had been an agreed one.
Helena had received the raven not long ago, a slim parchment piece strapped to its leg with a date, time and location written in slim black ink. Helena had recognised the signature. Even in it’s its intricate loops and swirls.
So here she was, months later and feeling stronger this time than the last. Helena stopped in the centre of a small clearing, the trees that reached for the sky enclosed her perfectly. It was a small area to the edge of the woods and the sun that crested the tree line was sweet and summery and red as fire. She could see nothing through the tree trunks and hear even less. Months ago, Helena would have been terrified. She would have been a nervous, stuttering mess. Not now. No
Now, she stood clad in black fur and red wool, her scar unhidden and her hair loose and as unruly as the the gnarled tree roots she stood upon. Helena waited.
