Blackfeather Woods There is a first for everything.

Potema cleaned up the remnants of the herbs, watching as her sister silently slipped away. She huffed, a strange tightness in her chest unwilling to dissipate even though Kendra was long gone. The witch crumpled on the floor, rubbing her head as she snarled in frustration. What was she supposed to do about her? She knew nothing about consoling others, especially after such devastating times. She would have to be as nice as possible to Kendra...she supposed.