Willow

Durga sat in her rocking chair and picked up her knitting.

She looked like a timid, friendly grandmother, sitting by the fire, knitting.

Willow hung in her magical bindings, feet several inches off the floor. She was glad not to have electricity running through her anymore but she knew her reprieve wasn’t a kindness.

As Durga knitted, she wove spells.

Willow knew it was one of her special talents and the High Priestess had only started knitting as a ...