Witch's Marsh prettier and younger but not any better off

@Evanora

he didn't often wander far from whitebark stream. it was his home now, his to protect and to serve and to cherish. he felt as if he had grown somewhat close with kavik and his shy son, with artyom, with aphrodite. . . why leave? it had everything he needed, and if somehow he felt lacking, he could always visit the maplewood.

but south of the maplewood was a dark and odious place that caught his attention. he kept the curiosity at bay for a little while, but today, surya was too tempted to resist. he left the trees he knew and entered the shade of the trees he did not, his paws immediately sinking into damp, cold earth.

the yearling made a face of disgust but trudged on, keeping to high ground as best he could. it was a dismal place, and though the cold prevented a swarm of summer insects, he felt incredibly uncomfortable here. a while longer, and then he would return home. he did not belong here—no sane creature did.

No sane creature did indeed. For Evanora was not sane in the slightest. The marsh was her place, she had grown accustomed to its muck and how to traverse it with ease and odd grace. Knowing every nook and cranny, every fallen log and hidden rock that would keep her from getting stuck in its grasp. 

And so when she came across the sight of someone trudging through her lands, she was curious enough to approach just enough to be seen and heard - but not hunted. The man awkwardly tried to cut through but having the idea to try and avoid the muck by keeping to the higher grounds. Unlike wolves who kept their lands with teeth and attacks, Evanora let the lands protect her instead and protect her it did - so she felt no desire to attack the wolf-man. 

What endues thou hither  wolf-man? She finally calls out to him, curious as to what he was doing here. Rarely did she ever have visitors so she was happy enough that maybe... someone was here for her?

the voice that floated to him was alluring enough, though he wasn't sure at all of the words. maybe one or two— what? surya asked aloud, looking around. finally, his eyes landed on a thin young. . .wolf? no, too small. woman, for sure. but smaller than any wolf he'd seen.

were you talking to me? he continued, padding slowly toward her. he hopped atop a fallen tree, scrabbling a little to keep his balance before settling on his haunches. he kept a distance from her, wary. not that he had any reason to fear her. . .yet. she hadn't given one.

and certainly it would be hypocritical of him to be afraid based on her foreign tongue, given that he spoke a different language from most of the wolves here. he tilted his chin, looking for all the world like a bold but confused little boy, lost in the woods.

Yes. Her voice like smoke in the air of the bog, smooth and whispy without a hitch even as the larger man approached. Evanora was a strange thing for sure, lacking all the natural warnings to be wary of such creatures and the possible danger they held with them. She had been lucky this far, believing in her magic was there to protect her from such things and so, there was no fear in her eyes as she watched him approach and settle down onto his haunches just a little closer than before.

This is mine swamp. I rarely get visitors, what doth thou seek 'i hither? She recognized the look in his eye, confused, and lost - but was it the location or his path in life that he sought? The strings of fate were fickle and often cruel, but not always to those deserving of some luck. I am Evanora, the witch of the marsh.

she spoke strangely, but it was, he thought, the common tongue. he picked up more of it now, including a name. and a. . .title? witch? surya gave her a polite smile and a nod, though his wariness had not yet faded. she might be smaller than him, but being of the marsh, she would know the terrain much better. she had the advantage if it came to a scrap.

i'm surya, he introduced himself. i'm exploring—i didn't know anyone lived here. well, anyone besides frogs and snakes, he added with a chuckle slightly tinged with nerves. no surprise you don't get any visitors. are you very lonely here?

oh, god. he was babbling now. he really needed to stop babbling. he closed his mouth, clenching his jaw, looking sheepish.

Stepping a little closer, she breathed in his air, sniffing around in a large circle around him while hopping from one solid ground to another, some dipped into the muck and barely visible as she almost looked like she was stepping above the marsh itself. She knew this place well enough to know even the hidden rocks or logs with which she could use. 

Thou are a pack wolf. She crooned in a profane melody, remembering the pack wolf who had rudely attacked her for simply wandering a neutral land. I be ne'r lonely. (this one is a bit difficult lmfao, translation is "I'm never lonely"). Once she was pleased with investigating his musk, she had come to a conclusion. 

This was her land, and how dare any of these pack wolves venture in thinking they could also claim her marsh and chase her out of here too! Greedy, selfish wolves. Aroint thee wolf! let the infirmity of the witch's marsh sink into thy bones, a vile infirmity steal thy toes and sensation till nought yet nubs are left! (Begone wolf! Let the sickness of the witch's marsh sink into your bones, a vile sickness steal your toes and sensation until nothing but nubs are left!)

Curse this wolf for the blasphemy of his brother!

I hope this works!

his confusion only grew as she spoke, and then blossomed into complete horror as she. . .cursed him?! strange and disjointed as her speech was, he understood it all. steal thy toes—

kya matlab hai?! surya burst out, voice straddling the line between fear and anger. his eyes blazed green fire and yet were as wide as they could be, darting between her and his paws. as if expecting them to disappear as he looked at them. what is your problem?!

he didn't do anything! one wolf couldn't claim a land; she seemed to hold a grudge against someone else and was now taking it out on him, and surya didn't like that one bit. look, i still have my toes, witch, he spat, splashing down into a swampy puddle and sending a spray of water her way with one forepaw.

which was probably a mistake.

While his own fury grew, the witch was not afraid. Insanely enough, she laughed. Cackled! A dark cackling that echoed in the woods, in her own way mocking his anger and the stranger's retaliation. A curse, a curse! A beshrew on thou wolf! She cried out with glee even as the mud splashed up on her twisted face, The bog shall beshrew thou as it seeps through thy skin, like poison, a venom till thou canst not feel anymore She danced around with lithe paws, muck slinging up with every step as she bounded around him.

Curse, curse, curse CURSE! She kept shrieking, letting her voice carry through the marsh and reverberate against themselves and the constant chanting meld with one another in a haunting melody. This should teach those stinky wolves a lesson on messing with the bog witch, let this one tell his tale and spread the news of her vile temper aginst their kind. And perhaps the next one would be kinder to the strange woman in the marsh, in fear of her magical wrath.

pagal, surya remarked with a roll of his eyes, as she ranted and raved even through his splashing. and his splashing was not limited to her pelt. he became disgusted with himself eventually, coated in cold, fetid filth.

ugh, he thought, nose wrinkling. it would take a long dip in the icy waters of whitebark stream to get all this out of his fur, and even then. . .

tail not quite tucked (but close), the yearling retreated from the scene, thoroughly unamused. the words were forgotten but would come back to haunt him in days to come. for now, he didn't believe for a second that the tiny woman had the power to curse.

she was just crazy. living in a bog must do that to you.