PaperSoxUmbrella

Her name was forgotten. She was a sea-witch, and because of that, a hermit. Her customers did not stay long, and spoke only hushed words, unease. Her voice was rusty from disuse: any questions in those short visits were left unasked, so she left them unanswered. She did not leave her cave. She did not feel warmth on her skin. Her face was hidden. Tangled, limp once-beautiful hair covered her eyes and their heavy lids, their drooping bags. Her grey-green skin was salt-stained, draped like seaweed over her bones. She looked dead, except for her hands, and they looked worse--their long fingers grasping even at rest. Molten potion's bubbles ha