Jade Fern Grove i'm gonna be gone for good again

wb's gaze doesn't leave the pretty girl's, hanging on her every word with naked sincerity (a treasure of hers, these big pink eyes) though the words themselves are so mundane. she laughs as the question starts - and then closes her mouth, confused, casting a look toward where ocra is -- oh, there's a boy, only she ain't know him or what's going on. the scarlet coy is decidedly less impressed with the interruption (boys!) but there must be a story here she doesn't know from the way he steps forward all tortured-like and says why. 

"witchbaby," she announces, answering ocra's unfinished question, before swinging towards the pale-white stranger. "an' who're you?" the girl drawls, sizing him up - oblivious to her presence as a third wheel, oblivious to the idea that she might be the odd one out. no, no, she was having a perfectly pleasant-if-plain conversation with miss ocra, and this boy's just gonna have to wait his turn.