“That looks nasty.” says the witch “Looks like you’ll die.”

“Did you arrange this?” ze pants, pressing a hand more firmly against the bleeding wound “Did you-”

“I didn’t do anything,” says the witch, kneeling down and pressing a curious finger into the blood “It’s not my business to interfere.”

“You hate me.”

“I don’t hate.” the witch blinks “That’s not entirely a lie, before you complain. I gave up most of my stronger emotions ages ago.”