The Witch's Cat
Lizzie was greatly regretting her choice to venture through the swamp.
Her fur was caked with mud. Vines smacked her in the face every two minutes. The thick canopy blocked out any and all light.
It was, in a word, miserable. She couldn’t even remember why she wanted mangrove, but she had come this far.
Also she was lost. But that wasn’t important! Lizzie could totally find her way home if she wanted to!
(...alright, probably not, but she could try!)
And there was a witch! Who, if the toads everywhere were any indication, cursed people! Not that Lizzie necessarily believed in witches. But she’d met goblins and gods; witches weren’t that difficult to believe. And people who practiced magic were notorious for enslaving cats.
Which wasn’t relevant, because a) they wouldn’t be able to tell she was a cat due to her brilliant disguise, and b) there probably wasn’t a witch.
When she stumbled into a clearing, she almost sobbed with relief - especially when she saw that it opened up to a the river that marked the end of the Evermoore. Strangely, there was a person there, crouching in the mud and packing some around a flower. Gardening? In a hellscape like this? Well, to each her own.
“Hello?” Lizzie called. The person jumped, falling backwards and promptly landing on their butt. They scrambled quickly to their feet, turning to face her.
“Oh! Hello!” The person seemed surprised to see her. Alive, Lizzie’s brain added against her will (although honestly, she was surprised she had survived). “Did you just come out of the swamp?”
“Yes!” Lizzie exclaimed. “It was horrifying.”
They nodded. “You should be careful. It eats souls.”
Lizzie flinched. “Really?”
They tilted their head. “I think so. Not really something one would live to tell the tale of, you know?”
Lizzie nodded. “Maybe you should be careful. I heard there’s a witch who lives around here!” Maybe the witch is the one stealing souls, she mused.
“Oh!” The stranger patted their head, then laughed. “That’s me! I’m the witch.” They pulled something out from the pocket of their overalls that looked like a mangrove propagule, but clearly wasn’t, since when they waved it an oversized, pointed green hat covered in small pink flowers appeared on their head.
Lizzie let out a fearful yelp and stumbled back, covering her face with her arms. “Please don’t turn me into a toad!”
The stranger - the witch - laughed again. Lizzie tried to think of it as a cackle, but it was so genuinely delighted yet slightly self-conscious that she couldn’t. “I don’t even know how to do that, if I’m being honest. I have one toad friend, but I think he was always a toad.”
Lizzie slowly lowered her arms and cracked one eye open. “You mean… you can’t curse people?”
“Nope!” The witch winked and held a finger up to her lips. “But don’t let that get out to the more hostile empires, k?” Lizzie nodded, and they grinned happily at her. “Thanks! Shelby, Great Witch of the Evermoore, at your service. She/her.”
Lizzie blinked. She hadn’t thought a witch would be so cheerful - but then, she’d have expected a witch to be able to curse people. Especially one that lived in an apparently haunted swamp. “Mayor Lizzie of Animalia. She/her.”
“Pleased to meet you, Madam Mayor!” Shelby pointed to a log bridging the river. “I’d love for you to stick around, but I’m guessing you want out of here as soon as possible?” At Lizzie’s frantic nod, she sighed. “Yeah, me too. Exit’s that way - it’s kind of unsteady, but trust me, you don't want to swim.”
“I’ll take your word on that.” Lizzie shuddered at the thought of even touching that murky water. Why did Jimmy like swamps so much?
That thought gave her pause. Did Jimmy like swamps? He hadn’t mentioned it the three or so times they’d spoken.
Ah, well. A mystery for tomorrow.
“It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Great Witch Shelby.” Lizzie hurried to the log.
“Same!” Shelby agreed, grinning. Lizzie crossed the “bridge” as quickly as she could. Once she reached the other side, she looked back to see that Shelby had returned to her gardening. Looking around, she spotted a pale-skinned toad that had crossed the river.
“You’re telling me this isn’t the victim of a curse?” Lizzie mused aloud. “It’s just a cute toad?”
The toad croaked as confirmation and hopped away. Lizzie grinned.
Shelby had seemed nice. Lizzie wouldn’t mind trudging through the Evermoore again just to see her.
After all, every witch needed a familiar.