The Tangle the sacred smoke of juniper, and mugwort purifies the air

witch followed her sister happily, trailing her right flank with heda at the other side. the pale witchling had left rivenwood a handful of times before, and felt only joy and excitement to be blessed with a day away from home. just the three densisters. she was oblivious to heda's discomfort, who seemed to her to be a warrior unshakeable. druid was their queen, evolving from a shy thing into a bold leader as she grew. and witch— she flitted about them both like a butterfly, never settling into anything, but never seeming unsettled by that.

life was good. blissful.

the sea, the sea! she cried at her sister's words, then fell into her cackle-giggle. witch had heard tales of the ocean by mahler and sequoia, but she had yet to see it with her own eyes. in her mind it was like the sky above, except filled to the brim with mythical creatures— merwolves, monsters, and flora that she couldn't even begin to imagine, try as she might.

witch pranced happily about her densisters, unable to corral her excitement, and unaware that their chaperone-to-be had already arrived.