Artemis kept her back turned as the old woman spoke. Her mouth began to skew into a displeased frown, though she was careful to keep her posture even. That hadn't gone according to plan. Berating herself for such sloppy work, Artemis schooled her face into something more neutral. She turned back around to see the witch clambering down from the roof.

A reevaluation was in order. 

She followed the witch into her mangled cottage, ducking around the odd tree branch protruding from the walls. Artemis didn't bother to hide the way she looked around, trying to make sense of the environment. This old woman… this witch, she wouldn't stand for false charm or niceties. And she clearly already knew who Artemis was. Or at least, she knew the situation. Blunt and guarded, and too clever to be fooled easily.

Artemis wrapped another character around herself.

Standing in the doorframe, she centered herself around the heat from the Lantern in her hand. She felt the weight of the rosary around her wrist and the rabbit mask tied at her waist. Her bare, dirty feet against the ground.

She focused her blue gaze on the witch. When she spoke, her voice was a little less slick, a little less composed. Artemis wanted to kick herself at how her voice seemed to quake ever so slightly, as though she were some lost child. 

[color=darkturquoise]"Where am I?"[/color]