Snakes , witch craft . All the things you admire dearly .

„ Well ? “ A soft voice echoed throughout the cabin . . Heels clicked against the ground as the woman made her way to the pot . Sniffing the atmosphere . She nodded .

„ Rose petals . “ She corrected . . Her gloved digit rested on top of yours . . Her free hand held onto a few rose petals that were dead . A few snakes were around her neck .

She’s your mother , more like your teacher to be exact . .