The young girl, a maiden no more, was ecstatic. She couldn’t think of Chiodos, or of her time with him, without smiling. He was a truly good lay. She smirked to herself. She was sure she’d see Chiodos again - if only because one or both of them required a night of pure fun. She was drunk on the feeling. Remembering the screams she’d released with him. Recalling the high that had taken Hazel in its grip. She had never felt that submissive before - that needy. She flushed lightly, with barely a thought of the possibility that they would meet again.
The Ashen Woodlands were lifeless, gray. Hazel’s eyes flicked over each and every husk of a tree, scanning the place. She stepped lightly. Mist coiled around the young girl as she ventured deeper into the forest, old ash coating her limbs that were so elegant and long. She turned a random way, drawn by a thicket of burned husks, once bushes by the looks of them.

“That’s the price you’re payin’ if you want my magic!”