Little Red Riding Witch
“Slone,’ she grumbles, still green around the gills from the night before. “Charmed, I’m sure.”
“Not exactly,” he smirks.
I cough, giving him a harsh side-eye. “Be nice,” I whisper under my breath.
“She started it,” he mouths silently.
Axel tries smiling again and reaches to help Slone with an incredibly heavy-looking box. “I can do it myself,” she growls, almost tripping. He catches her, letting the box topple over. Several books, a small black cauldron, and a cache of crystals come tumbling out, rolling on the sidewalk, stopping a few feet away as they hit the lawn.
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