Zeke perked some at Sadie's comment, and then he looked over his own handiwork. He nodded, once.
"Lil' 'un, you're exactly right," Zeke said, and gently moved the tub so it wasn't directly in the way anymore. "Good on ya for catchin' that. It could have gone badly for anyone tryin' to get through."
"Thanks!" Another voice, somewhat creaky and feminine, said, though the speaker was as of yet unseen.
"You're quite welcome-" Zeke froze suddenly, eyes wide, stiff as a board.
Suddenly a head emerged from the portal- a dragoness with yellow scales and emerald green eyes like a reptile's, that seemed to glow under the wide brim of her pointed hat. Under the brim curled two white horns, and out of the sides of the hat itself four more protruded; all in all, she looked terrifying.
The witch grinned, showing off sharp, jagged teeth. "Boo!"
Zeke yelped and jumped almost ten feet in the air, clutching his chest as if afraid his heart was going to burst out and make a run for it without him. He landed back down, shaking and breathing heavily. The witch cackled and emerged fully from the portal- more of, she slithered out, somehow, moving on two legs with the same sinuous grace of a venomous serpent. What emerged was a crooked, whip thin figure clothed in a dark green witch's dress. Her yellow and turquoise wings snapped out in the humid swamp air. A crooked broomstick was held in her tail, while a basket hung from the crook of an elbow.
"Sssorry, Zeekie," she chuckled through her fangs, "but I couldn't help myself; really, you ought not to be so scareable."
Zeke calmed down enough to glare at her. Still, he kept his tone somewhat cordial, despite his shaking. "...'Ello, Zantha. What brings ya down these parts?"
"Just here for some slime and snails- and puppy dog tails, you know, the typical grocery list for my sort. And also a little something for my dear Cedric, too. He's writing a fascinating thesis, you know, on how the consistency of certain ingredients can have an effect on the potency of magic poultices-"
She seemed to catch movement in the corner of one of those green reptilian eyes, and then with a snap of her neck, they were focused on the hatchlings. Another sharp grin broke out across her face, and she wiggled the crooked claws of one talon at them.
"Well heeellooo, little pretties," she cooed, "what are you doing here? Zeke's little helpers, I assume?"
The ailing hatchling was already stressed enough before Zantha burst out of the portal in all of her delightfully witchy glory, every single muscle in her lanky body seemingly incapable of not moving in an uncanny manner.
It was like she simultaneously was but wasn’t a dragon; the sort of thing Mudada might make if he ever got drunk, inexplicably took an interest in woodwork and carved a life-size marionette. The unshapely horror of the night that riddled most toddlers with fear...and utterly enthralled Sadie.
This was Sadie’s swamp, and she was its witch. Not even that resounding boo put an end to the hatchling’s contemplative, threatening glare; although her body lowered, it was merely to give way for her neck to contort uncomfortably to keep her snout in this...this usurper’s general direction.
George didn’t have the energy to jump or shriek like Zeke - it was already astounding that someone so weathered by the sands of time could even manage such a feat, and what was just a friendly, Zantha-style greeting only pushed him over the edge, eliciting a fearful whimper.
Sadie leapt forth, putting her all into psyching out the intruder with an unnatural shuffle, far too tiny to look anything but cute to the witch that towered above her.