Fairspell Meadow I

It wasn't his white witch who spoke. A woman of many gray tones stared him down now, and while he could note her beauty, his hunger for Medusa was all-encompassing.

I hunt my lady, he answered, swiping his tongue across his jowls. I look for the white woman. Do you know her?

He abandoned his chase and stood upright, lifting his chiseled jaw high as he could while he looked her over.