Dill took out two wooden bowls, each filled with a bowl of aromatic rolled thick white, and finally, two small plates of blackberries accompanied by crushed nut puree for an after-dinner dessert, which she picked up and began to enjoy with gusto.
Tsk! Not bad for her; I wish Amber could taste it too!
Dill focused on enjoying her food and her thoughts drifted away.
The "Sisters of Bounty," as the name implied, were the essence of a whole season's bounty and were the main course of the Witch Glory's banquet. Her bowl was still a humble version; the official version was supposed to contain seven fruits in season and seven corresponding vegetables.
"Less apple slices."
"Yeah, yeah..."
Who's talking?
Dill stared at the unexpected guest that suddenly appeared, The other party was holding another bowl of soup to drink with gusto, and I saw Dill's surprised face. She just barely stopped a mouthful, frowned, and asked:
"Isn't that why you wanted to see me?"
Indeed, but as a black witch, you're too spineless! In front of a variety of horrible and disgusting illusions, and now a bowl of soup will lead you out?
Dill suppressed her stomach full of vomit, and she secretly measured up the mistress of the Shadow Mound in front of her.
Too young, not at all like a character who has lived for hundreds of years, Dill even thought that the other party was a witch of the same age as herself.
Her red hair was like a haze cloud, and the girl's face was bright red from the heat. She half squinted to enjoy the hot soup, and Dill could see the shimmering emerald color in it, like a cat lazily basking in the sun, and it reminded her of Amber.
The red-haired, blue-eyed girl is just like every witch in Junkie, as if she is a naturally blooming flower; every pore exudes youthfulness, and even the big white goose that has always been protecting the ground didn't rise because of her intrusion.
Dill couldn't quite understand why such a witch would choose this gray, foggy shadowmound. Or maybe she is suspecting that the other party is the powerful black witch that everyone fears?
As far as she knew, even if the Green Fairy was powerful, she wouldn't dare take over the land and go against the church so boldly.
Curious as she was, she had to settle her stomach before she could talk. So the two young girls, you a bite and I a bite, wide-eyed, quickly solve a whole pot of mutton stew.
The gray fog had been dispersed at some point; apparently, the owner of the gray fog felt no need to cover it up, and it was only then that Dill realized she was sitting in front of a huge tree in the sky for a picnic, and the ground was swarming with a coiled, green shade replacing the entire sky, with thick whiskers drooping down like fine rain.
The witch had already stood in front of the tree, she pulled on one of the whiskers, and the giant wood immediately appeared as a small but delicate cane door.
"Come on in, we'll just ..."
The red-haired witch glanced at Dill's right arm.
"Deal with the wolf's bite on your hand first."
It wasn't that Dill hadn't seen treehouses before, the Moonlight Forest had its fair share of huts set up in trees for resting from witch hunts, but she'd never seen anyone who could live inside a tree!
Can we only say that it is worthy of the Green Fairy? The ancient wood looks soaring, but inside it has been carved by witches into a warm and cozy rotunda. Niches were dug into the thick walls to house smoldering fire pits. There are only two rattan mats placed on the floor, and the rest of the space is filled with jars and utensils that can be placed anywhere, revealing the owner's leisurely and casual life.
"Lovely place." Dill couldn't help but marvel.
The witch shrugged, unimpressed. "This is a dead Ash Tree Spirit that wanted to be cremated, but I thought it would be a shame to burn the body, so I used it as a summer cabin."
Dill kept her mouth shut, she was sure that the other party was indeed a notorious black witch, but was it too late for her to go out now? It feels better to stay in the candy house, right?
Not noticing the girl's complicated expression and probably not caring much even if she did see it, the black witch with no conscience swept a circle around the messy floor and said with some distress, "I need to think of something to drink."
Dill subconsciously says, "No, don't bother."
"Huh? No, I wasn't asking you; I was just wondering what would go well with your dessert. No, I wasn't asking; I was just wondering what kind of drink would go well with your dessert; actually, black plums aren't my favorite, but whatever spiced mulled wine it is, then!"
Dill: I kind of wanted to hit someone.
The sorceress gestured gently, and several delicate glasses and jars waddled over to her as if they had grown legs, mixing and blending their concoctions and finally falling into her hands. She placed the kettle on the smoldering fire pit and threw some kind of spice into it. The light and shadow of the fire tongues on the wooden walls rose to a more delicate and brightly colored pattern.
Dill stood at a loss for words, but finally, she put down the cupboard and chose to sit down on one of the straw cushions, not realizing that the turnip had naturally taken over the other soft cushion and was soon fluffing up her feathers. The small hall was filled with cardamom, gardenia, bayberry, lemon shamrock, and other lingering spices, and the naturally occurring wood grains on the walls came to life in the candlelight, making the whole treehouse smell like a luxuriant, rich forest.
The smells, the things, even the black witch in front of her... As much as Dill didn't want to admit it, she did feel at home, and even though she tried hard to be alert, her body felt like it was soaking in a smoky hot spring, every inch of her muscles massaging and relaxing with invisible heat.
The witch handed over the spiced mulled wine, which Dill accepted gratefully; there was nothing like it to dispel the chill of the fog, with orange slices, cinnamon, and cloves simmering in it, perhaps a tablespoonful of honey, and a few slices of red-peeled apples tucked into the rim of the glass, which made the young girl smile.
"That's the way to go." Satisfied, the witch took a spoonful of the nut puree and savored it with a sip of mulled wine.
Dill didn't drink it right away; she still had lingering fears about the worm mud pies, and after some hesitation, she spoke cautiously, "I'm sorry to bother you."
"It's okay, actually; I got you confused with some other annoying fly, and it just so happens that I accidentally broke the bird's egg from breakfast, and damn it, I've been hungry all morning." As she spoke, she took a large, hard bite of the nutty puree into her mouth.