Look

—and he suddenly finds himself in an entirely different forest, underneath a tree adorned with lights and a ladder.

Wait, what?

He takes off the paper lion mask, and examines the familiar surroundings. There are the fireflies… the salt ring around the tree, strangely void of snow compared to the rest of the area… the star-lit lantern, connecting its way up into the treehouse, and the crickets chirping in tandem with owl hoots. The gentle sound of wind-chimes as a breeze passes between each tine. Yep, this is definitely the Witch's house.



So he's back home. "Home", home too, not one of his temporary cardboard cutouts. He just puts his hands on his hips, shaking his head as his little wooden chest heaves in a mimicked "sigh". So much travelling to do! Tomorrow, then. He can probably hitch a ride in the Starfisher’s backpack.

He walks into the salt circle, and checks behind the tree. So his quest to return the invitation did not quite go as expected. Between the nice lady somehow thinking it was his, the bad-but-actually-good flower and its not-actually-bad effects on the people attending, what a strange party! All things considered, he thought, climbing into a small bucket, he had fun! Everyone was really nice to him, and each other! He got to help people too, that's always good! He even got to dance!

With a pull of a rope, the bucket began to travel upwards. It was mysterious too, like a proper adventure from his storybooks. He could have sworn there was at least one princess or queen there, maybe two? Or three! Or four—the hostess had to be a queen, she just had to. A heroic protector, a bird-like man, similar to the Tayr clans here, but somehow not at all like them. TWO DRAGONS! One looked a little too real though... a unicorn? ...All costumes though, right? No bad guys to duel (but he might be secretly grateful for that). Some people that needed saving—just a little, though.

The bucket reaches its destination and through some strange mechanism, locks into place, allowing Look to jump into the treehouse. Stars, fireflies, and the moonlight seem to be the only thing illuminating the place, but it’s not a scary kind of dark. He walks in, careful to avoid the clutter of broken and half-mended toys, empty paint jars, the stray jar of cardamom seeds and lone lavender sprig among a sea of dried hibiscus petals. In the middle of the room, draped over his workplace and sound asleep, was the Witch; quill still in hand. Even guardians need their rest!

The Witch takes no note of the little thing as it climbs its way up, eventually settling onto the worn, pointed hat and climbing into a pocket. Once safe and snug, Look pulls out the sketchbook and examines the drawing he’d made. A small hand runs over the flower in the middle of the drawing. There’s a sense that he’s learned something very important that night, but he can’t quite pin it down.



No, it wasn’t a bad flower at all.

***

((This is a follow-up to the Winter Masquerade event of December 2020! Thank you guys for all the fun!))