The mother and the witch
This must be it, she thought, as they approached the cabin, the little boy clinging to her arm. The cabin was surrounded by a white-fenced yard, itself enclosed with the same scarlet-leafed trees that made Rotwald what it is. Except these were adorned by flowers that gradually shifted in glowing colors, giving a surreal illumination to the whole garden. It was a beautiful sight, nothing like the old man had described. Maybe the witch wasn’t as bad also? Surely an evil being cannot create something this beautiful. While she was lost in admiration of the garden, she felt the boy’s grip tightening around her arm, hiding his little body behind her leg. And then she felt something wet on her thigh. The warmth and smell that came with it told her that the boy had just pissed himself. She was ready to admonish him when she noticed the creature in front of her. It looked like a tall slim human covered in feathers, large head impossibly balanced on a bird-like neck. It’s beak was open, sh...