Anova rode alone alone through the Grimwood, deeper than she’d ever gone before. All around her loomed the shadows of ancient trees.
In one of those shadows, the stone hut stood with its door ajar.
Tempted by curiosity, Anova pushed the door open and stepped inside. Herbs and bones lay scattered across wooden shelves. An iron pot sat over the fire.
Anova’s blood tingled. She could see what this place was.
Footsteps came from beyond the door. The hut’s owner was back.
But Anova wasn’t afraid.
She was curious.
It would be interesting, she thought, to learn from a witch.
Word Count: 100
This is for Friday Fictioneers. Thanks to Rochelle Wissoff-Fields for running the challenge and Piya Singh for providing the photo prompt.
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