Still not dead.

[taennyn]

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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[taennyn]

Thin ice over shallow water (Death be not Proud, the Morrigan)

Last night had been cold enough to ice the street's puddles, though the palest sunbeams already present had been enough to reduce it to thin sheets of ice over shallow water, that crunched beneath her boots and was more the texture of early spring than a potential slipping hazard.

She danced in it, the crunch-stomp of her shoes counterpoint to the curve of her body, the sound of her laughter, and the humans hurrying past her, shoulders hunched against the chill, looked at her like she was mad.

They weren't far wrong by certain standards. She still didn't care, and kept dancing.