The Bracken Woods the lost & broken

She softened before him. Her expression changing from fear to concern. A concern which caused her to slowly emerge from the little hollow which she had only just settled within. She moves slowly, low and cautious. He takes a step back, an instinctual step which he had done time and time again. Though this time he does not think the little honey and cinnamon woman wishes to do him harm or so he truly hoped. 

It was curiosity which killed the cat yet lucky for him he was dog, or half so, unknowingly to himself. He stood, his legs rigid, stiff. It were as though he tried his best to plant himself firmly in place should his pessimism get the better of him and he flutters away from her. H-Hemlocke.. He stammers, his voice a hushed tone as her own. As for what he was? Well, he really didnt know. Having what was presumed to be a wicked witch for a mother, one could only tell.