Dill could understand that a hungry woman had a bad temper, and a hungry witch could destroy an entire village or town.
She thought of the mist that she couldn't see the end of; did this also mean that the other party's magic was powerful enough to envelop the entire forest? In that case, then, it was a miracle that she had gotten here alive yet another countless close calls for survival.
"I've asked them to go back; they shouldn't bother you anymore."
The witch gave her an offhanded look and downplayed the situation: "Yes, ah, not bad for my helpful and good friend."
Dill blushed; the entire forest was under this witch's control, and her own bragging had certainly fallen on deaf ears.
The young girl blinked with innocence, "I am the Moon Witch from Miller's Hollow; you may call me Dill, and what shall I call my good friend?"
"Little Grinch," the witch laughed at her, "I have many names, you can call me Ina here."
Ina? Dill chewed on the name several times; for some reason, she always felt as if she had heard the name before. The other person was really some kind of notorious Grand Witch, wasn't she? She tried to remember, but her memories were like a veil; she couldn't unravel them.
Ina couldn't seem to stay away from the warmth of the smoldering fire pit, the firelight bouncing off her eyelashes, the contours of her face, the fluffy tip of her nose, and the bright red tips of her hair gilded in a brilliant coppery-gold color. The red-haired witch was holding the spiced mulled wine in both hands, her blue eyes half-open like an insatiable cat's.
Dill thought of Amber—the same arrogance, the same bad temper, the same power. If you want to say there is a difference, Amber is like the quiet and comfortable moonlight, while Ina is like the grassland, unceasing life, and wildfire.
Dill's heart seemed to be strangled by a thin rope, and he tried: "Ina, what do you mean by wolf bite?"
"What else could it be?"
The woman pointed to her arm with her chin, and Dill immediately felt as if she'd been burned; she thought of the tattoo that had suddenly disappeared and subconsciously tugged at her sleeve.
Large swaths of white skin were exposed, where once roses had climbed and twisted like recovered burns, leaving only a pale, invisible scarlet color, and Dill had to examine it closely to see the pitifully small old scar in the middle of it.
Dill hadn't seen it for a long time, and whenever she saw the tattoo, she thought of Amber, but when the tattoo disappeared, she realized that what was hidden under the rose and thorns turned out to be so small
Fingers caressed the scar, two tiny dots, two canines apart, and a tiny mouth so small it could only swallow strips of blistered, soft meat torn into pieces.
What did her cinnamon look like? She'd forgotten it for so long, her tattered memory spelling out only a blurry ball of fur.
Thinking on this, the young girl shook her head and said, "No way, I haven't been bitten by a wolf; this can't be a wolf bite; my lady had it looked at for me."
Cinnamon was just a puppy, and the only werewolf she'd ever known hadn't hurt her at all.
"Hmph, you don't even know when you've been cursed by your own lady, do you?"
Ina put down her drink at some point, and she came straight to Dill's side, pulling her arm over to examine it.
"There's a very powerful curse lingering on this," the redheaded witch delicately mooched the rough spot on her arm where the rose had once been wrapped around it. "It's not a werewolf, it's a witch's."
Amber cursed her. How could that be? Without waiting for Dill to retort, Izuna surprised her with her next comment.
"Because she was used to cover another curse, the werewolf's curse, a double curse, it's the first time I've seen someone as remarkable as you."
Dill gasped and laughed at her comment, "It's almost full moon, am I going to have to change?"
Ina raised her left eyebrow and said, "There are many kinds of werewolf curses; the most common one is the transformation spell binding of a man-wolf; this one of yours is rather like branding, a mark left by a werewolf, like a puppy rubbing its fur and urine on its master."
Probably because Dill's face was so hard to read, Ina threw up both hands, "Well, it's a lousy analogy, and to put it in human terms, it's a pact, you made a pact with the werewolves."
Dill pulled down her sleeve to put an end to this ridiculous conversation, "Ma'am, no offense, but I did meet a werewolf before, but I escaped unharmed.
She tried to soften her tone. "Ma'am, I don't mean to be rude; you may have misunderstood something. I did meet a werewolf before, but I escaped unharmed and unscathed. This scar is from a puppy bite when I was a child."
"No, that's what you think; the witch's curse doesn't just cover the curse, it covers your memories."
Ina laughed quietly; the girl's dumbfounded look seemed to please her.
"You forget a lot of things; you forget the oaths you once promised; a pact can only go both ways; that werewolf bit you with your permission."
Dill's first reaction was to shake her head; she even forgot to talk back as if she were trying to make some sort of last-ditch effort.
Ina suddenly burst out laughing. She didn't have Amber's kind of hatred for werewolves, but she didn't look like she was gloating either; it seemed like she just overheard a funny joke and laughed from the bottom of her heart.
"Hahahahahahaha, that's so funny, witches and werewolves... I'm almost sympathizing with you both! He did not eat you; he did not transform you; he only left the pact. I am not sure of the truth, but whatever it was, it must have been deep enough for him to resist his instinctive emotions, and at the same time, deep enough for you to restrain your instinctive fear, to want to believe that the wolf wouldn't have bitten off your entire hand with that kiss."
The young girl pressed her palm against the cupboard; if there really was a curse, then how could she not see it with her crystal mirror of truth? This had to be the black witch's joke; she was playing a trick on herself. There was no way she could have betrayed Amber, and there was no way she could have betrayed the moon goddess.
Dill finally found her voice: "No way, there's no way I could have that kind of relationship with a werewolf."
"That kind of relationship? And what happened to the werewolf?" Ina looked puzzled, as if she couldn't understand the language Dill was using.
"God made sheep, and in order to keep the sheep from eating all the grass, he created wolves again. But the wolves were too fierce again, so God gave certain sheep sharp horns that could fight back; the wolves ate the sheep; the sheep killed the wolves; the grass grew; and the cycle of life thus went on and on; and who was nobler than who?"
The red-haired witch muttered, "Once one side tries to upset that balance, that's what would be a disaster for the entire continent."
She looked steadily at Dill, her glowing blue eyes seeming to burn with the ghostly fire of the night. "Little witch, your enemies are not all werewolves. Now the wolves and the sheep have forgotten to whom this meadow belongs, and a great catastrophe is coming."