If talk about the Middle Ages and the times of the Inquisition, every citizen knew what a Witch looked like, although it would be more correct to say - an unfortunate girl who would eventually be burned on a bonfire just because of her certain appearance.
People in those days didn't care that it was simple genetics, they didn't even know such a word, so... sometimes a common thing for everyone could lead to death from the moment of birth.
There was always a Sword of Damocles hanging over young girls with ginger hair and green hair, especially if they were beautiful, and it was only a matter of time before the weapon descended on their necks.
Step. Step. Step.
The girl came out of the woods with a sly smirk, looking at Ethan. She had obviously been waiting for this moment for a long time and now, her time had finally come.
