WitchBite

By Leather Wings Shall You Fall

"I'm.. Not sure I'd like to see that. But regardless, you probably shouldn't mock his ways, even if they are a little eccentric." She laughed. "What do you think it means?"

"How should I know? You're a lot better at deciphering these things than I am."

"Well I don't know. It doesn't sound good though does it?"

"Nope."

There was a steady, comfortable silence between us. I always felt comfortable around Vicky. Of the twenty other occupants of this house, living or otherwise, she was my closest and oldest friend. She was the V1 to my V2. We went to the same school, got the same job, we almost dressed exactly the same had my father not put a stop to the idea of me wearing flowery dresses and high heels. Which, admittedly, was for the better. I do not have the legs for heels or dresses.

Our silence was interrupted by a mournful howl that cut through the steady hush of the rain, causing us both to scramble to the window.

"He's sad again" Vicky commented as we stared deep into the forest, trying to peer through the mess of silhouettes and shadows, just to get a glimpse of our protector. I'd only ever seen him once, when I was a child. Although everyone has heard him cry. A great hulking thing, with the horns of a stag, and a body made of stone and vine. A relic of an older time.

He was part of the reason we were safe from the usual traffic of everyday life here. Most people are afraid of the woods, especially when night falls. I've heard him be called all sorts of things. Some called him a vengeful spirit of the woods. Others, claim he was a man who once tried to cheat a devil and was cursed to a hateful form. I've even heard some call him the last Jotun.

Nobody seems to know, not even the oldest and wisest of us here at the manor. We just know he protects us. The Witches of Tithe Manor.

After a heavy scolding from Victoria upon her discovery of me smoking 

"Avery Harwood, you fucking idiot" I hated when anybody used my full name. We had made plans the following morning to head into town. She was going to treat me and help me keep my mind off things.. Ultimately, she seemed confident that the Seidr's prophecy didn't mean I would die, but she didn't know what else it could mean. Just not that.

I, however, was not convinced, and lost a good amount of sleep pondering the many horrible ways leather wings could kill me.

***

Morning came, rudely blasting spears of yellow light through my windows, and I arose cursing and grumbling about not closing the curtains.

I got myself ready, my usual ensemble of clothes that were exclusively black, a plain hoodie, jeans, and my lucky pair of boots. I only ever had one pair of shoes at a time, and they were always boots. They were so versatile!

Shine them. Boom, something smart. They're durable for work. Comfortable for walks. I could never reason to buy another pair or multiple different pairs of shoes. It always seemed like a waste of money to me.

It was a short journey into town. Only fifteen or so minutes by car, although it felt a lot longer with Vicky belting out whatever pop song was blasting through the radio, I had to open my window the entire way and hope the sound of the wind rushing by was enough to drown out the noise. It wasn't.. Vicky loved it.

We spent, the first hour or so, running around the shops, looking at various clothes and baubles. If I didn't know any better, I was here to play pack mule to Vicky's ever growing luggage of new things, rather than take my mind off of what had been told to me.

Money was never a problem with Vicky. All it took was a little eye contact, a sweet smile, and a whisper of words too low for anyone to hear; and the cashier suddenly found a reason to lower the price of the item. She'd leave them confused, and dazed. Their noses following after her scent like a flowery memory.

I was outside the fifth store, (The last one then we'll go get lunch, I promise!), when it hit me. A heavy, sinking feeling in my stomach, a shiver up my spine. The sudden tuning out of my surroundings as my body tried to focus on the feeling of wrong that had found me.

They called it 'The Cunning'. Most living creatures have it. That sudden feeling of dread when they know something doesn't feel right. Like something bad was going to happen. It's born of instinct, and for Witches, it was comparatively stronger, like an extra sense given to us. When we're younger, it barrels along with the rest of our hormones. Feeling like acute anxiety, or hypocritically, bursts of energy that seem limitless. Like all things, we control it better as we get older.

But where was it now? Where is it coming from?

I could feel my heart beat, punching it's way through my chest. My breathing was becoming quick, and shallow. I scanned my surroundings, trying to find it's source.

The myriad of people, going about their daily lives, I stopped briefly on each of their faces, never allowing myself to linger for too long, as I searched for danger.

Almost as quickly as it came, it dissipated -

"Avery? Is everything alright?" Vicky asked, another bag of clothes in hand.

"You didn't feel that?"

"No. Feel what?" She asked, looking around inquisitively. I didn't reply. Furrowing my brow as I continued another wary look of the crowd. "Let's go get some food, okay? That'll make you feel better." She cooed gently, hooking her arm with mine and leading me to the nearest cafe.

We laughed about our adventure so far over bagels and coffee, well tea for me I hated coffee. When I stood up, glad to be free of the weight of all those bags for just a moment longer and stretched.

"And where are you going?" Vicky demanded, her cheek still stuffed with bagel as her voice squeaked through pursed lips.

"For a walk on my lonesome. I could use the exercise and alone time" I smirked, earning a scowl and a look of shock from my friend.

"How am I supposed to get all these bags to the car?" She questioned, almost choking on the last bite of bagel.

"I have a feeling, that won't be much of a problem to such a.. resourceful woman like yourself" I chuckled, gesturing to the barrister who hadn't taken his eyes off of Victoria from the moment we entered this place.

He was tall, and handsome. Broad shoulders, held a strong neck that reached to an even stronger jaw line. His skin was fair, and his cheeks held the precursor to a five o'clock shadow. Startlingly blue eyes glittered in a curious manner, and a small crop of dirty blonde hair poked beneath the ridges of his work cap.

He gulped nervously when he caught me watching him, hurriedly distracting himself and fiddling with coffee cups before moving on to rearranging the pastries on display.

Vicky's eyes widened, as she shielded her face and wiped her mouth with a napkin. Quickly brushing down her dress, freeing it of any crumbs.

"How do I look?" She grinned, it was less of a smile and more of a question to ask if she had anything in her teeth.

I laughed in response, giving her a wink of good luck before leaving her behind. I wasn't fifteen feet away when I looked behind and had seen the barrister approach the table.