Though I need to stop thinking about the Bone-Witch for a bit*.
So, we have the reappearance of the meme:
Sparks, please. Responses may be slightly delayed if the Witch or a spark eats my face.
*: I'm determined to finish before the end of October. Originally projected to be about six thousand words, but I'm at five-ish now and need at least
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When she'd been very small, she'd pretended the only safe space in the whole world was within the circle of her father's arms.
She'd grown up, she had.
But her father died, tonight, and she didn't know if he'd come back.
So she drank her great-grandmother's tea with shaking hands, trying not to think of childhood games, and the sound of her father's voice surrounding her, the safest place in the world.
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