Spell

The steam was coming from something boiling in the cauldron. The old woman glided across the dirt floor, a bunch of herbs in her hand. It was dark, you could barely see the steam taking the shape of a skull. Then a flash of lightning lit up the twisted trees around the hut and the stone path that led into the woods. A dog barked as the old woman opened the door, eyes red in her wrinkled face. She stopped suddenly, looked around, opened her mouth and her horrible scream froze the seas, dried up the crops, killed the cattle and made you go away from me forever, my love.