The Shipping Witches
From Create Your Own Story
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The ancient door of Lady Lavendale's Home for Girls creaked open slowly, the same door that two girls had entered nearly 10 years ago as babes. It let out a familiar shrill cry that was easily ignored as two hooded figures darted out into the cold frigid air. One clutched a basket in her hand and the other supported a messenger bag hung around her slender shoulder. They whispered something to each other under their breath and burst out into hushed laughter as they crept down the frosted steps and toward the Town Square. They had followed the same dirt pathway everyday since they could first remember, wearing it thin with their moccasins. The air was sombre, damp with fallen rain and ridden with a compelling tension that neither of the young girls could interpret or explain. Something strange was happening, of that neither of them could deny. | The ancient door of Lady Lavendale's Home for Girls creaked open slowly, the same door that two girls had entered nearly 10 years ago as babes. It let out a familiar shrill cry that was easily ignored as two hooded figures darted out into the cold frigid air. One clutched a basket in her hand and the other supported a messenger bag hung around her slender shoulder. They whispered something to each other under their breath and burst out into hushed laughter as they crept down the frosted steps and toward the Town Square. They had followed the same dirt pathway everyday since they could first remember, wearing it thin with their moccasins. The air was sombre, damp with fallen rain and ridden with a compelling tension that neither of the young girls could interpret or explain. Something strange was happening, of that neither of them could deny. | ||
Current revision as of 05:34, 18 February 2013
The ancient door of Lady Lavendale's Home for Girls creaked open slowly, the same door that two girls had entered nearly 10 years ago as babes. It let out a familiar shrill cry that was easily ignored as two hooded figures darted out into the cold frigid air. One clutched a basket in her hand and the other supported a messenger bag hung around her slender shoulder. They whispered something to each other under their breath and burst out into hushed laughter as they crept down the frosted steps and toward the Town Square. They had followed the same dirt pathway everyday since they could first remember, wearing it thin with their moccasins. The air was sombre, damp with fallen rain and ridden with a compelling tension that neither of the young girls could interpret or explain. Something strange was happening, of that neither of them could deny.
They passed by few but felt dozens of eyes watching them from drawn windows as they walked down the cobblestone road. They continued on though, gulping and falling silent, stopping only when they reached the willow tree where they would set up business for the day.
The shorter girl, Maple, put down her wicker basket in the long soft grass surrounding the base of the tree. She set up the box they kept there and laid out her journal and a few drawing utensils. As Erybelle, her partner, rummaged for her things, Maple sat down and leaned against the tree trunk. Business was about to start and despite the uneasy feeling in the air the two of them felt confident that today was going to be a good day.
Who would you like to be?
