The Witching Hour
Her eyes picked up at the sound of the overhead bell ringing. It was a slow shift, despite everything that had happened the last few days. Shiloh was thankful for it, thankful for the quiet. It let her refocus her energies on where it mattered most, it let her hide away from the reality they were finding themselves in. The world was toppling onto it’s side, how long before everything was in total chaos was unknown. And yet, there was an eery feeling inside her core that destruction would come sooner rather than later.
The familiar face creeping into the doorway managed to bring a grin to the necromancer’s lips as she set the now clean glass on the bar top. “What brings you in?”, she asked carefully, letting the grin on her lips morph into a smirk. “She’s not here today, just me, so I’m going to assume you’re hear to drink away the bonfire too?” @waylon-hughes













