Witch's Marsh We watched, the stars fell, and oh you know we let them

why do I insist on making myself sad, always, at like 3am?

She hadn't realized. The anger that had kept her running had also kept her fueled, indignant, and charging ahead. Now that she'd stopped, and that Charles had brought up a fortune, Fennec wondered if there was still a place for the witch of the wood. Witch. As she thought it, it rang with the derision of Bronco's final words. It rang with the pain of his departure.

She couldn't say it.

Turns out he'd taken that as well.

She couldn't even be upset about it. She only felt more numb because, in the scope of things, what was that to lose? Just another image. It was a lie anyway.

It's your lucky day, I guess. I don't do fortunes anymore. Not now.