It was the little
green girl who lived in the forest; she was wraith like. Alice, as in fantasy
land. Yet this was real, no fairytale. Tea cups clinked. Two big ones were in
use. Alice's and another. Whose? And several smaller ones. The warrior woman
circled the picnic site, weapon ready. The unheld tea cup hovered in the air.
Unseen hands held it. The girl indicated, 'Sit Down.' The warrior advanced,
spear tip ahead. In a sudden movement faster than the eye, the sharp tip caught
the child's right arm. Blood flowed and her half full cup fell. Tea covered her
and mixed with overly red blood. The warrior wiped her spear on the girl's
dress, took the second cup from mid air and sat down. The child glared but
remained silent. Her blood confirmed her life force. Who was she though? A
sentry for the Devil, for her enemies or Cernunnos? Or all? She was pretty but
it was a fake beauty. Stolen from willing and unwilling souls. Her age was
measured in multiple centuries and not years. The beautiful toy dolls were
surreal and out of place. Yet after recent events, anything was possible.
"Why?" growled the warrior witch, heart thudding?
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