It started with
the wind. Smelling of salt and the wide open ocean, it played havoc with her long hair and pulled her out of the hard chair she had been sitting in, just outside the bar. Like a woman enchanted, she stepped sideways into the wildness of it, closing her eyes, and stumbled against a tree when the earth trembled beneath her feet.
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From just beyond the door there's the sound of frustrated crocodile weeping, and from deeper in, a slightly exasperated voice. "Anthony, you can't just go banging into doors you want to open. You're gonna have to grow another couple of feet and get better with the whole dexterity thing to really master the concept..."
The door swings open, and Nymphadora's wry smile fades as she catches sight of Elizabeth's expression. From her arms, Anthony looks up at Elizabeth curiously, all pretense at upset forgotten.
"Elizabeth? What's wrong?"
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At the question, she looks back down the hall and shakes her head, then meets the witch's eyes.
"Can we talk?"
Quiet and intense.
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Anthony gets put on the floor with a few toys, and the witch sits down on the sofa beside Elizabeth. "Do you need anything? Water, something to eat?"
The mothering instinct kicks in easily when you're this hormonal.
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She hasn't told anyone what she's about to say; Jack knows, but only because he was there. And rather dead afterwards.
"You've been genuinely kind to me. If you want me to go after you've heard my tale, I understand. All I ask is that you not tell anyone what I say. The knowledge could change what will and should happen, so I must ask for your word."
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