Lake Rodney There is room in my lap

In the dim light of the early morning a dark shadow emerged from the mist and headed towards the banks of the lake. It's pace was slow and, though it appeared effortless in the beginning, by a closer look one could see that the creature was walking more mechanically. As if exhausted to the point, where you had to tell your brain, how to put one foot after the other. 

It drank greedily from the water very like a man, who has finally found the well in the desert, but in her case, her rather unhealthy appearance suggested a long-term disease. She stopped only once, looking first up and then down at her reflection in the water. One eye in the color of molten gold, one black looking back at her and then a humorless grin spread across her facial features. "I wondered, where have you been," she said quietly, her voice raspy from lack of use. A fit of cough followed right after and small droplets of blood splattered in the water. 

"I am here, as you asked, what now?"

Having made himself at home in this new land, Corvus laid at the base of a tall fir tree. The hare he'd managed to snag kept his hunger at bay, for now, and he wasn't keen on wasting energy. He enjoyed the dim lighting, always preferring it to the harshness of daylight. The dew on the grass cooled his stomach, and he found himself beginning to doze off, head lowering to rest between two large black paws.

As his eyes were fluttering closed, though, he spotted the figure of what must have been a wolf approaching the lake through the fog. His eyes shot open to assess the individual. He immediately gauged its age; it was clearly an elder, from the labored steps to the stench of sickness. He was not concerned in the slightest.

Corvus was content to return to drifting off to sleep until he heard the old canine's voice creak through the thin air. He lifted his head, narrowing his eyes. Who was she talking to? He was positive that no one else was here. Was she mad? That seemed likely, he thought, chuckling lowly to himself. He was not concerned if he could be heard, not budging an inch.

Hedda's reflection changed and a moment later the cold face of a snake was looking back at her, it's jaws parted, exposing the yellowing fangs and poison oozing from them. It let out a low hiss and the old hag cringed and turned her head away in disgust. It had been long, since she had spoken with her master and now, when she did, she found little joy in it. 

"Very well," she replied and nodded, accepting the orders. When she looked back, there was her reflection only again. A sound of quiet laughter caught her attention and her head snapped up, her gaze locking on the cheeky bystander. She snorted and approached the other in a slow, but deliberate manner. "You found something funny?" she hissed maliciously.

Corvus swore that he'd heard a serpent's hiss, but the elder did not react as if there were one about. Though only further confused, he did not move, curiosity getting the better of him; that, and he had nothing better to be doing. He then saw her approach him, irritation clear in her grimace and even more so in the harshness of her grating voice. What was she going to do? He had not an ounce of worry. Corvus laughed louder now, not bothering to apply restraint or even to move from his lying position on the ground.

Hedda stopped few feet away from the snickering wolf, her gaze full of utter contempt to the very last ounce, but not proceding any further than that. She was not stupid to begin with - her state was pitiful and, though she could speak all she wanted about this creature - she would not dare to challenge it for a brawl. The death's sword was already pressed against her throat, but she did not wish to die just yet. 

Therefore she bared her teeth at the idiot, murmured a curse and then turned  to leave. She had better things to do than just waste her time with imbeciles like these.