Goose squinted up at the dense canopy, the way the last strands of daylight strained through the Thornwood leaves. The forest felt different tonight, not just in its usual whispering way but like it was holding its breath, waiting. She shifted her weight, ankles aching against the stubbornly rocky path, and wished she'd stretched earlier. Again.

Ahead, Elara’s cottage appeared—not exactly glowing, but alive. Lights flickered warmly through the smudged windows. Goose swallowed the rush of nerves curling in her stomach. Visiting the witch... it never got easier. Not the first time, not the last.

Elara stood on the porch, arms crossed, one eyebrow already lifted as if daring Goose to explain why she was trespassing. Goose tried to look innocent, which was a joke between breaths—she wasn’t built for subtlety. “I—I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said,” she started, toes scraping the dirt. “About the herd. The horses.”

The witch exhaled, shoulders relaxing a fraction. “And?”

“And...” Goose blinked under Elara’s sharp gaze. “Do you ever wonder if maybe those horses want to be found? Not hiding, not locked behind curses.” Goose’s voice dropped. “Not alone.”

Elara’s silence stretched out, heavy like the moss hanging from the limbs around them. Then, without a word, she stepped aside. The door creaked open.

Inside, the air smelled of earth and something sweet—wildflowers or pine sap, Goose couldn’t decide. Shelves lined with jars full of crushed herbs and twisted roots gave the room a hunter’s-curiosity vibe. Goose’s eyes snagged on a thin silver chain dangling from a wooden beam, glinting faintly in the candlelight.

Elara took a slow step forward. “You want to help.” The accusation wasn’t unkind, but it hit. Goose rubbed her hands together, feeling the heat slip away. “I know it’s dangerous. I’m not stupid.”

“Dangerous enough that it’s better not to meddle.” Elara’s fingers brushed a cup, lifting it to her lips. “But you don’t listen.”

Goose laughed—a honky, awkward sound that filled the space. “Can’t help it.”

Elara’s eyes softened just slightly. “You remind me of the forest—stubborn, relentless, and kind of impossible.”

Goose looked down, imagining what that meant. Then she faced Elara again, her voice firmer. “So what next? You want me gone?”

The witch didn’t answer right away. She moved to a small desk and pulled a leather-bound book closer, flipping through its worn pages. Then her mouth curved into a real smile, the kind that touched her eyes and made them almost warm.

“No. Not gone.” She tapped a page. “But you’ll need to learn. It won’t be easy.”

Goose’s heart flipped. “Teach me?”

Elara nodded slowly, almost reluctantly. “If you’re ready to see what’s really here.”

Outside, the forest stirred. Maybe it, too, was curious what would happen next.