Witch's Marsh prettier and younger but not any better off

Yes. Her voice like smoke in the air of the bog, smooth and whispy without a hitch even as the larger man approached. Evanora was a strange thing for sure, lacking all the natural warnings to be wary of such creatures and the possible danger they held with them. She had been lucky this far, believing in her magic was there to protect her from such things and so, there was no fear in her eyes as she watched him approach and settle down onto his haunches just a little closer than before.

This is mine swamp. I rarely get visitors, what doth thou seek 'i hither? She recognized the look in his eye, confused, and lost - but was it the location or his path in life that he sought? The strings of fate were fickle and often cruel, but not always to those deserving of some luck. I am Evanora, the witch of the marsh.