"Go home, there's no one here to protect me from," Ellie waved off, "Come on, I'm not that drunk. I'll get myself. Go."

The wolf's snarling muzzle that appeared among the trees amused her, to which the tailed one, snorting with displeasure, turned around, rapidly disappearing into the night darkness. He knew it was useless to argue with her.

Staggering from the amount of alcohol she had drunk, tugging at the hem of her raincoat, which clung to branches, Williams slowly made her way through the forest, which she had studied like the back of her hand. The moon, her faithful companion, watched over her from above, illuminating the way and protecting her from the danger of tripping over the ornate roots of trees.

"Damn, Grandma's going to rip my head off..." she muttered, hiccupping, rubbing her neck with a sympathetic expression on her face.

This was not the first time that Ellie, despite the ban, left the borders of the forest without warning, stepping into the territory of Matariel. The interest was above the prohibitions, and the lack of communication with other people made itself felt. Lucrezia, her grandmother, was strict when it came to the city, convincing her granddaughter of its danger, while not revealing all the details. And Williams was drawn to the unknown like a moth flying into the flames of a campfire.

People were rare in these forests, and this was a great credit to Ellie. She loved to frighten lost travelers, making scary noises and holding back laughter, watching them run away. And besides, the locals, knowing that a witch lives somewhere in the thicket, did not dare to meddle in her territory, for fear of being cursed.

There was a cry of a night bird, which Ellie followed, wondering if she could hide the fact that she was again eavesdropping on city gossip in a tavern on the outskirts, while actively leaning on intoxicating drinks.

"I told you I didn't need any help," she grumbled, casting a sullen glance over her shoulder to where the crunching of branches came from.