- slipping right through your hands, she's a -
Once upon a time there was a witch. The magic had made her hideous, but it also made her beautiful.
Young men came for her, seeking to use her glamoured looks in the way in which one normally uses young women. She let them come, enticing them and later using their blood and lights for her spells.
One day, for reasons best known to herself, the wicked witch did not let a certain young man approach her. Instead, she unveiled herself of her magicks, letting him see her true form, and giving him the option to escape.
He did, of course, and she let him.
When he was an old man (and she still young, by the standards of witches) he wondered why she'd chosen him, and what would have happened if he'd entered her lair willingly, without needing to be fooled as the others had. If he'd made the other choice.
Of course, there is no way of knowing.
(my god, am I maudlin today).
Young men came for her, seeking to use her glamoured looks in the way in which one normally uses young women. She let them come, enticing them and later using their blood and lights for her spells.
One day, for reasons best known to herself, the wicked witch did not let a certain young man approach her. Instead, she unveiled herself of her magicks, letting him see her true form, and giving him the option to escape.
He did, of course, and she let him.
When he was an old man (and she still young, by the standards of witches) he wondered why she'd chosen him, and what would have happened if he'd entered her lair willingly, without needing to be fooled as the others had. If he'd made the other choice.
Of course, there is no way of knowing.
(my god, am I maudlin today).