Sleepy Fox Hollow hang around

The witch did not think her logic was sound, but she did not press further. If this woman wished to destroy her body, and perhaps the bodies of any children she might carry going forward, it was not Fiona's duty to stop it. She could offer help, but she could not force it upon anyone. This was one of the core principles of her teachings in Greenroot, and she knew she must abide by those guidelines. To ignore them was to sully the name of her people, and she did not wish to do that.

Still, watching others make mistakes was not Fiona's favorite part of her trade, especially when she knew easy ways to prevent them. She certainly had no plans to bear children unless the tincture she brewed did not work for some reason. Fiona could only hope that it was strong enough to keep her own fever at bay.

There are many creeks and streams that pool in the hollow, she replied, an absence of judgement in her voice. I must see to that call and pray that it is not a god who greets me. Fiona turned to leave, but paused and looked back to add one more thing before she left the woman to her fishing... or to follow her, if she wished. My name is Fiona.

. . .

The strangest creature—though not a god as far as Fiona could tell—stood at the edge of their claim. It was gangly and hairy in ways Fiona had never seen. It set her on edge. She was not kind with her approach, baring her teeth, and raising her hackles at the otherwordly thing.

@Medalina tagging you back in, if you want! sorry it got a bit side-tracked.