A Clover and a Bee

Vinegar Tom purrs as he rubs against his witch’s legs. “Good boy,” Fauna leans down and scratches him under the chin. He flicks his tail and stretches. “See? He’s not all bad.” She picks him up and nuzzles her face against his.

The days fly by.

It’s barely morning--long enough after midnight for someone to be starting their day, but too early for that someone to be a reasonable human being. Lark is jolted awake, disturbed into consciousness after something jumped into bed next to her. Her heart races as she blinks at her surroundings, which take on nefarious qualities in the low light of dawn. It takes a moment for the panic to subside--she’s in her new room in her new house.