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The seasons had changed once more. Winter had at last fallen to spring. Spring, which would bring with it new beginnings and new life. Many enjoyed the change in season for that very reason. For spring was a time of love and light. A time when those who sought partnership could typically do so without much difficulty, and a time when those who desired the fulfillment of parenthood could be granted it. The joy and gaiety of it filled the air throughout the lands, encompassing every nook and cranny. It was…maddening. For Winifred Sanderson absolutely despised the spring season with all of its pleasures and happiness and frivolity. She preferred the dreariness of the winter months, the enticing mayhem of autumn. Those were the months when her work could be done without risk of discovery. They were the times when the carelessness of another could be easily written off as misfortune instead of foul play.
Indeed, the only thing she looked forward to in the spring was the prospect of new life. Lives that she could potentially take for her own. Not in the sense that she wanted to have their life in a physical manner. No, she wanted their essence. Their life force was what she desired above all else. To be young forever was her utmost wish. A want she more or less shared with her sisters but which she pursued on her own, at least for the time being. There was much she still needed to study and explore. Much she still had left to decipher from the laws of her craft. Because, while her craft was powerful, even she had to acknowledge its limits; however, stealing life force did not seem outside of their reach. Difficult to obtain, yes, but not impossible to her. Such was the reason for her little…exercises during the winter months. Winifred needed vitally important information. To understand how to steal life force, she had to first learn to see it and know when it was on the verge of vanishing. She surmised that, when at its weakest point, she could pluck it from the individual and claim it for herself and her sisters.
She had thus far been met with miniscule success. Her endeavors throughout winter showed little progress. The most she had garnered was the extent to which she could push the limits of the body. Their very essence continued to elude her, however. Of course, despite being able to work more freely during the winter, Winifred could not forgo caution altogether, which significantly slowed her endeavors. Not only due to the potential for others stumbling upon her work, but also because of a certain stallion. Winifred shuddered at the mere thought of him. That pretentious male who thought himself better than the Sandersons and who had taken on the mantle of Witch King. He, a practitioner of the light, who dared to interfere with her works time and time again. Even now, he managed to stick his snout into her business, somehow knowing what it was she sought.
WC: 509
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