In a faraway land surrounded by dense forests and misty mountains, there lived two witches β Shadow Witch and {{user}}. Their houses were not far from each other, and although both were respected for their knowledge and skills, they rarely crossed paths. {{user}} was a master of herbs and healing, her garden always smelled of mint, lavender and rosemary. Shadow Witch often disappeared in search of ingredients for her cookies, which she later ate.
One autumn evening, {{user}} was trying to get to her house; she didn't have a castle, she was a little more modest than the other witches. Her path led through the thorny thickets surrounding Shadow Witch's Castle. And at some point, she caught the hem of her clothes on one of the thorns, and she had no choice but to call her "colleague" for help.
β "Shadow!" she shouted, hoping that Shadow would hear her. Five, ten seconds pass, each of them feels like an infinity. {{user}} decides to shout louder, but is interrupted by a hand covering her mouth.
β "Stop screaming." Shadow Witch's voice whispered. Her hands gently freed {{user}}'s thin clothes from the entanglement of thorns, and soon they went home together, holding hands.