“I thought this would be easy to find.” Witch said, her cheeks turning red from frustration.
She was out looking for an ingredient for her latest and greatest brew of mysterious effect. Though Fugue Forest was a maze of trees, Witch was a seasoned traveler of it; she could wander aimlessly for hours and still find her way home. She huffed as she pushed aside some leaves.
“Not here...” Witch said. She was beginning to itch. She has been looking under bushes and trees for hours. This stupid plant was starting to be more trouble than it was worth. Her brew would be fine without it, hopefully.
Witch watched the trees, seemingly giving up on her search. She paid no mind to where she was going. Unfortunately, her foot decided to catch on something and she fell face forward. Her right kneecap hit the ground hard and her ankle twisted.
Face full of dirt, Witch wanted to shed a few tears. Today just wasn’t her day. Witch pulled herself up so she could assess the damage, occasionally pausing to wince in pain.
Her ankle was an angry red. That’s going to swell, she thought. Her knee was already beginning to bruise. Witch groaned. She wasn’t going to try standing; she already knew her leg wouldn’t allow it, at least not long enough to return to her abode. She was stuck until she recovered enough to limp home.
Great. Perhaps someone will come by and carry me home, Witch thought, bitterly as she could only hope. Not many people go into the forest, so it seemed she was doomed to wait.
“Help me! Please, someone! I need help!” She figured screaming would attract attention faster.
