Erybelle
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| - | + | You stretch your limbs, trying to shake the sleep from them and maybe something else a little more foreboding. You watch Maple's green eyes flicker from side to side as she studies her surroundings at the same time that you roll yours. The chocolate haired girl was only a year older than you at 10 years of age though it was hard to believe. She had a pool of knowledge exceeding her years, able to name by heart even the most obscure names of poisonous plants and without hesitation tell where the ice was on the pavement after a snow (It was probably from watching Erybelle fall so many times). | |
It was time to set up the business again, a ritual they had started up nearly two years ago underneath the same decrepit willow. The doll faced girl reached into her satchel and brought out the aged scrolls, yellowed pages facing up to the miserable grey sky. Her writing was cursive, nearly illegible, but she loved it that way. Maple had been the one to teach her how to read and write, sharing with her only | It was time to set up the business again, a ritual they had started up nearly two years ago underneath the same decrepit willow. The doll faced girl reached into her satchel and brought out the aged scrolls, yellowed pages facing up to the miserable grey sky. Her writing was cursive, nearly illegible, but she loved it that way. Maple had been the one to teach her how to read and write, sharing with her only | ||
Revision as of 20:45, 21 January 2013
You stretch your limbs, trying to shake the sleep from them and maybe something else a little more foreboding. You watch Maple's green eyes flicker from side to side as she studies her surroundings at the same time that you roll yours. The chocolate haired girl was only a year older than you at 10 years of age though it was hard to believe. She had a pool of knowledge exceeding her years, able to name by heart even the most obscure names of poisonous plants and without hesitation tell where the ice was on the pavement after a snow (It was probably from watching Erybelle fall so many times).
It was time to set up the business again, a ritual they had started up nearly two years ago underneath the same decrepit willow. The doll faced girl reached into her satchel and brought out the aged scrolls, yellowed pages facing up to the miserable grey sky. Her writing was cursive, nearly illegible, but she loved it that way. Maple had been the one to teach her how to read and write, sharing with her only
She could hardly even remember the last time they had fought. Hadn't it been over the name of their small business? Yes, she was sure that had been it. Erybelle was positive that Relationshipping would catch the eyes of travelers looking to burn some gold, but Maple argued that The Witches was so much more powerful, and had a certain mystique about it that would attract buyers. In the end of course they'd both compromised, agreeing on 'The Shipping Witches'. That had been nearly two years ago and their business had blossomed beautifully.
