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76heart ● lissa, the swamp witch ● female ● she/her ● 525 words
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It was rare that she ever found herself with a need to leave her hut in the swamp she called home, but now, she had found one, a most important one. Some strange corruption had begun to grow in the deepest depths of the waters; a lurking darkness that her magic sensed, and there was one final ingredient that she no longer possessed and could not obtain in time. She was out of fresh water from the crystal springs, water that sparkled like sunlight reflected upon its waves with glitters like stars dancing as if they were flames reflecting upon the gently rippling surface of the see. There was only one place she knew of where she could get it in time; the nearest tavern a few days walk from her home.
The journey took longer than she would have liked, but she was there with her supplies to make a potion of detection and that was all that mattered. She ordered the crystal spring water, specifying clearly that it could be nothing else, but her eyes strayed from the two barkeeps- one the color of cream, and the other of white and grayed reddish brown- to her surroundings, to the old wooden beams around and the odd decorations of creatures of stone that seemed to have been there for longer than the tavern itself. Her eyes also strayed from the water when she received it, too caught up in her thoughts and the urgency of mixing the potion right then and there, something she would soon learn would be an... interesting error, for if she had, she would have noticed the water was from a normal spring, and not one of crystal caverns.
Carefully, Lissa slid onto the bench of the seat furthest back, neglecting to see the stone frog statue by her feet as she set the potion up, and took all the needed ingredients she had taken out of her traveling sack.
It only took her mere moments to properly mix it up, her paws deft and practiced in working with such things, and a few moments more to realize how terribly it had gone wrong, when instead of a color change signifying it was done, a thick puff of smoke erupted from the oddly shaped vial she had mixed it in, startling her, and causing her to spill the potion on the frog she had failed to notice, along with a spare mushroom that was knocked off the table with a flailing paw.
When the smoke cleared after a moment, just as she was about to clear her lungs with a cough, she heard a very distinct, familiar sound that sounded foreign all the same, and she felt her gut twist with horror.
Oh no.
She looked down, and the sight that greeted her was certainly not the potion she needed.
At her feet, there was a stone frog, animated with life, and covered and fused with toadstools. It looked at her. Gingerly she picked it up, holding it at a distance, and cocked her head, forcing a lopsided smile.
Well, she had a familiar now. A very, very odd familiar.
