Blackfeather Woods you have witchcraft in your lips

Violet and cobalt flick to the shadows as they shift, birthing one of their own to stand before the Priestess -- so dark she might've been swallowed by the tangle of wilderness at her back if not for the flint of her shrewd gaze peering back at Mati with an equal measure of intrigue. 

She too felt the static as it crackled between them, the crows falling silent as if to watch this junction of occult hearts or maybe as if the Woods themselves were listening. "Merry meet, sister," Aerenys purled in the darkling's direction, a faint but friendly smile finding its way to her lips. Aphelion slithered tightly about her throat for a moment, though she remained unconcerned by this movement for it was not to harm his witch but rather to lengthen himself out and reach in Eldritch's direction. 

"Hmmm," the reptile's master hummed softly in curiosity, masked face turning back to the wraith's as if to give her a closer inspection -- though she already suspected the other woman to be a practiconier of dark arts . "Much as I have an affinity for his kind, Aphelion is rather fond of witches," she mused by way of explanation, hoping the woman might confirm it.