[hr][hr][center][h1][color=7fbf40]Sylvia Strange[/color][/h1][/center][center][img]http://67.media.tumblr.com/eb03a8e95f9933a1e7eac50f6d8a4c58/tumblr_inline_n6i8yrEWBw1sgladw.gif[/img][/center]
[hr][center][color=7fbf40][b]Location: Forest Outskirts → Sleazy-ish Bar[/b][/color]
[color=7fbf40][b]Interacting With: Noone[/b][/color][/center][hr][hr]

Sylvia kept her head low as she walked, biting back tears and trying to keep her emotions in check. [i]Relax your brow, breath deeply, happy thoughts…[/i] she muttered to herself like a mantra as she took slow, sluggish steps away from town. She didn’t want anybody to see her at her weakest moments, and with every step edged closer to the wild, untamed land that lay the outskirts of the houses and roads. 

She felt cool, biting winds slice through the air as more of the bleak sky was covered by the lush leaves that hung overhead, cool drops of dew coating all the shrubbery and even the flies that buzzed from one fallen fruit to the next. The landscape was still grey and dark, but at least here some life still hummed. 

She glanced sideways at the slowly disappearing town, cars speeding off and packs of worried citizens fleeing, even the strongest among them were running away with their tails between their legs. The town was slowly being abandoned, but still a better alternative than having all the citizens be slaughtered like cows by rogue demons. They probably would be fleeing to the closest town, or maybe some place within the Bible Belt, fleeing to families in far away places looking for some semblance of comfort. Sylvia didn’t have that, no one else to turn to and Belial was still being silent. The growing icy silence growing between witch and spirit was beginning to concern Sylvia. She finally was cut off from the commotion, she saw no one and heard nothing but the soft [i]squelch[/i] of her footfalls against the wet grass, her mind still a wreck as she ventured deeper into the faint mist of the  forest. The day grew, even more, weirder, the reporters, what's left of them, predicted sunny days, but the cold and mist still hung in the air with their foreboding presence. Sylvia could’ve sworn she saw a silhouette stout figure wandering deeper into the mist, but it soon disappeared.

As the last bits of the town were being swallowed up by the forest and mist, a pink flickering light suddenly caught her eye. She turned and saw the bright neon sign of a nearby bar, advertising cheap beer and free peanuts. A part of Sylvia wanted to go there, her throat felt dry and she felt hollow. A stiff drink would surely fill that hole. She tapped her flask of demon rum stuffed in her bag, there no longer was the swish of the strong liquid, only a clink of metal and glass as she pulled out the empty bottle. She’d taken swigs of it every now and then, a way to clear her mind or celebrate, but now the well of enchanted buzz has run dry. Sylvia remembered the figure she saw and decided it’d be safer to leave for the bar. 

Besides, being drunk off her mind would give her the perfect excuse to finally start crying. 

[hr][hr][center][h1][color=c0fff4]Eudora Esmeralda Erebus
[/color][/h1][/center][center][img]https://d2arxad8u2l0g7.cloudfront.net/hostedimages/1414048517ra/11600621.gif[/img][/center]
[hr][center][color=c0fff4][b]Location: Untamed Forest Area → Hut[/b][/color]
[color=c0fff4][b]Interacting With: The Dead Things She Really Should Throw Out[/b][/color][/center][hr][hr]

Eudora let out comical groans with every step, the fractured bones in her tired hips aching, but she thought nothing of it. She once stitched her own arm back to her shoulder when it was mauled off by a bear, so she could handle a broken hip. Then again, her memories of the olden times may not be as sharp was it once ways, the lie between her imagination and reality was beginning to blur when concerning her memories. Eudora, however, had no time to worry about falling into insanity as she was caught between cursing her withered bones and angrily mumbling.

She ran, more like wobbled, as fast as she could towards the comforting presence of her hut and nature. Groups of panicked citizens past her by easily as one group gossiped about how they saw a corpse rise in a dream. Eudora caught only snippets of conversations before she finally managed to escape away from the sound of cars and annoying passersby. The ever so still silence of the forest welcomed her as she finally could relax. The withered finger-like branches of trees reached for the witch in welcome, or maybe she imagined that, whatever it was, Eudora felt nothing was out of place. 

She listened to the music of nature, the scampering paws of hurried critters and the crisp of the leaves she crushed beneath her foot. A still mist rose around the witch’s feet, darkening the world around her as she made way to her hut. Once or twice stopping to make sure no one was following her. Dark powerful energies tainted the air, but inside the forest, those ripples were muted. All Eudora wanted to do was to lay low in her little hut and wait for everything to blow over. She survived plenty of witch hunts, this one couldn’t be anything new. 

Finally, she reached her home. Dew stuck to her clothes and a bug crawled over her shawl, but she didn’t mind. She pushed open the rickety door, the scent of basil and rosemary wafting towards her from a self-stirring cauldron, her dead cat yowled and a black goat sat patiently by the fire. She finally was home.