The coven’s elder smiled wearily at the fledgling witch, xir lips cracking at the edges, xir form slowly crumbling. “The youngling will grow to be the shining star of our coven. The savior of our people. Perhaps it’s finally time to rest these weary bones.”

Author: corvidcraft

What's up! I'm a northern Canadian artist/writer. Poli sci student by education, acrylic painter by passion.

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