Witch's Marsh Don't you remember when you were young, and you wanted to set the world on fire?

Mae didn't like the wetlands much anymore. She thought of Moss each time she visited. It'd been weeks since she'd last heard that voice, but at times she still feared it.

Perhaps it was that fear which led her here again.

But she wasn't alone this time. A man, huge and storming through the marsh as if on a mission. Mae tensed, hiding among the undergrowth and watching him with an instinctive wariness. For now she said nothing to announce herself. Who knew if he could be trusted?