The forest breathed around her, not with wind but with a strange, pulsing intent.
For a moment, the Timeless Witch felt the lure of it, the quiet call to surrender, to let herself be carried by the tide of inevitability, but she knew better than to let herself go and indulge in the things of that realm.
She was too old and experienced to fall for that. Though even with her age, she had to use all her viable senses at that time to resist what was going on. The moss seemed softer beneath her feet, the air thick with a sweetness that wanted her to forget everything and go with the flow, but that would be a big mistake on her part.
She had been there for only a few minutes, but deep inside, weariness stirred. Old and bone-deep, it dragged against the pull like an anchor of a sort. She had outlasted the rise and fall of kingdoms in its literal form, yet this forest showed her, mercilessly, that none of it mattered. When the time came, she would have no choice, no voice.
