[ A coven takes all types, and just as the world at large has its recluses and its social butterflies, so does Amyranth span the width and breadth of all humanity. The itchy-soled and wanderlusted pass through town from time to time, but Cora — being young and lazy in that specifically teenage sort of way — prefers it better when the world comes to her instead.
On summer afternoons like this one, she can be found on the porch of her parents' place, pushing herself idly back and forth on its swing seat — the old hinges complaining gently with the back and forth, back and forth, most of the real squeak having been worn out of its joints long ago. At her feet sit a cat, a dog and — oddly enough — a tiny baby goat. It bleats anxiously whenever someone approaches, the tiny bell tied round its neck twinkling as it flops its head about in protest. ]
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On summer afternoons like this one, she can be found on the porch of her parents' place, pushing herself idly back and forth on its swing seat — the old hinges complaining gently with the back and forth, back and forth, most of the real squeak having been worn out of its joints long ago. At her feet sit a cat, a dog and — oddly enough — a tiny baby goat. It bleats anxiously whenever someone approaches, the tiny bell tied round its neck twinkling as it flops its head about in protest. ]
Oh shush.