• The horse galloped throughout the scenery, its hoofs echoing being the only sound in the lone woods.

              Its rider, who was just a figure in a black cloak, gave thrusts against the reins to yield the animal to keep the constantly strong side. There was not a sound made by the mysterious figure, only soft breathing that was overshadowed by the cracking of branches and shuffling of small animals.

              Soon enough their journey reached the end, the horse jumping over a log that sent them out of the shadowed woods and into the light of the day. The rider gave a quick jerk on the reins; the horses hoofs dug into the mud as it came to a stop. There was a brief moment of final silence before the rider applauded: "Good boy," and slung their feet over to hop off. By the time the rider had managed to place both boots on the ground and take off their bags, another figure had arrived; this one without a cloak. She was old-- hair long and grey, wrinkles taking place throughout the fingers to the toes; her feet bare and rags loosely hanging from the thin body. As soon as she was in speaking distance of the rider she smiled, revealing almost a toothless mouth.

              "I thought you'd come," the old hag welcomed, curling her toes too keep the excitement restrained.

              The rider slapped the horse on the buttocks which caused the animal to gallop off, to where nobody knows nor minds.

              "That's a shame to rid your transportation. Awful lot of walking to get back to the villages; your feet will fall off." The woman smiled again, edging forward and feeling more confident with the large beast gone.

              The figure ignored her hospitality, instead reaching into a small bag and pulling out a small glass bottle. Inside was a red liquid almost dark enough to be classified as black. It was pointed at the woman, tightly in grip of the rider but clearly not desired. The old hag shuffled forward, fixing the gap left between the two until her short face was right in front of the blood bottle.

              "How delightful, I thought you wouldn't be so lucky in getting it," she murmured, licking her lips. "Your mother must have raised you right, such a clever man you've become. No longer getting into trouble I presume? You do know the consequences to being a bad boy, don't you now? Do remember the day you broke into my little shop? I remember as if it was just hours ago.. such a timid thing you were but such boldness to attack an old woman. It's nice to see you have changed for the better throughout these years though."

              The man brought his hand back towards him, bottle still in grasp, which resulted in an annoyed look from the woman. "Your sense of right and wrong are humoring," the deep voice growled. "What do you want this for anyways? You witch."

              Her bony hand shot out surprisingly fast, resting on the mans hand with a tight grip. "Alas, he speaks!" She cooed, raising her other hand to grab the edge of the cloak and pull it back. The man blinked a moment, the sun now distracting, and the woman took her chance to try and free the bottle from his hand; however, he did not allow it to budge. She ticked in annoyance, now allowing her free hand to fall on the mans cheek, rough with stubble.

              "Such youth you still possess.." her voice faded softly, looking fully at the rider who stared back in sternness. "Dear boy, what I mouth must never be spoken of, do you understand? Now listen to me, this kingdom we pay taxes too and labor for will fall. Their feuds with the houses will create bloodshed and wickedness throughout the lands; causing failing crops, dying cattle-- the Gods will send out a plague in rage, don't you understand? Alas, there is a stroke of light that could save us from total doom, for the queen holds a child in her womb. Though still growing, this baby will bring us hope and so we must allow it life." Her hand on the bottle tightened more so, noticing a slight loss of strength in the man as he now focused on her words.

              He spoke after a minute of consideration. "How do you know of this? What gave you knowledge that the queen is with child; she has made no such announcement. And do not ignore my previous question, I see not how this blood will affect the pregnancy in any form." His eyes formed daggers, almost threatening to the old woman.

              "Oh child, such silly questions, fore you do understand my abilities, do you know? Being a daughter of magic gives one the ability to possess such knowledge when known how to be used correctly.. This blood of the young woman gives me the ability to form into her and when I can be given such youth, responsibility and trust are also bidded with. The queens nurse has died quite recently, no? Say that as a coincidence to spare your innocence. Now, she will need a deliver, and her child will be a sickly one. I will protect the baby by using this blood to impersonate the nurse. Please, now do give me the bottle."

              His grip tightened; the hand jerked back in a quick movement while the man also pushed the old hag back with his extra arm. He took three steps back, creeping just along the edge of the forest, as the woman coughed in age and wiped the blood from her mouth in shock.

              "Dear me! What a wicked thing to attack an elder!"

              "Go away if you wish for no harm," the man now snarled, placing the small bottle inside his cloak. "I see nothing but evil inside you old witch, do not come into the village unless you wish for a hanging." He took another step back towards the forest, ready to retreat for a long walk home. The man just begun to turn as the woman begun shrieking, running up to him.

              To a shock she was stronger than appeared, possessing almost a beasts strength as she pushed the grown man onto the ground, rolling him on back side, and then sitting on the chest so she could clutch his throat with her bony fingers. "You know nothing!" she continued shrieking, the man struggling to move but his body seemed paralyzed; no doubt magic taking over. "Such a stupid man you have grown! Trust, I spite at the idea of trusting you! For dishonor to me you must pay the price, child! And this time, I will not allow you to talk your way out of it!"

              His face begun to shade into a blue, frantically the man tried to move his fingers, to make a sound, but the witches spell had caught him well. Her power was too strong and clearly deadly as his face begun to change to another shade of deep blue and purple, the minutes already rapidly passing as he watched his life flashing before his eyes. His wife, his children, would they ever see their beloved again?

              It appears they would not, for soon enough the mans body gave way, he shrunk into the mud in defeat. The old woman hesitantly took her hands off his neck, revealing finger imprints of a dark shade, and then without even a prayer for the mans soul, she begun tearing the cloak apart, searching for the blood. It took a full minute before her eyes came across the glass, and in response the woman let out a happy call, pulling it out of the mans pocket and holding it up to the sun. She than tucked it into her own pocket, concealed in the raggedy blouse.

              "Such a fool to deny a witch," the woman murmured, glancing down at the dead body underneath her. Her fingers ran over the dead skin, licking her mouth again. "And such youth; unfortunately you were too bold, dear boy, and thus you must rot in your flaws." She crawled off the man, stood shakily to her feet, and looked upon at the sky. The sun was still high, only a few minutes were exchanged throughout the entire scene, and yet such living moments they had been. "Tonight." The old hag said softly to herself. "Tonight I will go."

              The woman looked back down one last time at the man and spit in his direction before turning and disappearing into the shadows of the woods.