▶ Dark shadows pooled around her, cast at odd angles by a late afternoon sun. The dark clung to her, a heavy and familiar cloak against the bright patches of light that managed to sneak through the canopy. Her eyes were bright in the dark, eerie white circles attached to a ghost white face that seemed to float, bodiless, in the dimness. That was how Lourdes liked it. She felt most at home in the shade, holding onto the dark for comfort. She couldn’t deny how familiar it all felt, standing in this forest. It didn’t matter that she was worlds away from where she’d grown up, in that moment she could have just as easily been out foraging for her mother.  

▶ There was an odd twinge in her gut at the thought of the old witch but it was smothered by another wave of nostalgia. Lourdes had never planned on stopping here. She’d been roaming, trying to put distance between herself and whatever demons might try to rise up from her past. She’d planned on crossing oceans and yet when she’d flown over this forest something compelled her to stop for a visit. A mixture of sentiment and the forest’s own charm bargained with her to stay, to rest. Lourdes didn’t think it would be so simple to leave. Familiarity was a crutch and she couldn’t deny comfort’s clutch.

▶ Despite the nauseating nostalgia, upon closer look, the forest gave up her secrets. The plants here were different than those back home and the smell was off in a way that Lourdes couldn’t quite pinpoint. Still, it was quiet and she was able to think clearly and for that she was very thankful. It couldn’t hurt, she decided, to wander a bit. So far, the forest hadn’t spit out anyone to come and confront her sudden trespassing presence. Still, the young witch kept to the shadows, not particularly bothered by the sudden, obviousness of the silence of the area.  She wove soundlessly through the underbrush, foglit eyes scanning the ground until she found an unassuming little bush tucked at the base of an ancient oak. The spicy-sweet aroma flooded her nostrils as she bent down to examine the green-gray plant. “Thyme.” Lourdes crooned the word to herself. It had been the old witch’s favorite herb.

a note | this is awful. It is also open to anyone or multiple anyones, though I would prefer herds to outcasts, as I feel that a herd best fits the plans i have for her ♥