The Cloistered Witch
She cocked her eyebrow at him, crossing her arms lightly. “You haven’t seen all the movies?” She shook her head in mock disappointment, clicking her tongue against her teeth quietly. Without another comment, she watched him easily unscrew the top, and then proceed to take a few gulps of the alcohol. She expected him to drink at least a little bit of it, so she outstretched her hand for the bottle back.
Once he consented to her request, she crawled back over to her drawings in the dirt. One of the dragon, it’s eyes being the most detailed and prominent, as she had worked at it with her trusty pocket knife instead of the bulky and awkward stick. The second drawing was of the wolf, its head tilted up and maw parted in a silent howl. She had even detailed the wind from its jaws softly in her dirt canvas.
”Would it disrupt your art if I prayed?” She was about to ask which art he was referring to before he continued. ”I am surrounded by dead, it seems, and as we say: espera respirar por acá de los muertos.” Soren’s left eyebrow quirked up once more, and a small grin wormed its way onto her face. “Something about it not being polite to breathe in front of the dead? Sorry, rough translation. I’m not very good at Spanish.” She shook her head, it was silly, but she didn’t really let that show on her face. Being a necromancer, the dead loved to listen to her breathe and speak, it was strange, but it was a ghost thing. “Of course not, feel free to do so.”
With a nod of approval in the direction of her art, she then uncapped the rum again, quietly allowing it to trickle into the indentions of the dirt. She smiled contently to herself, her eyes closed in that simple self-joy of what she’d accomplished, and she pulled out Harvey’s lighter from one of her pockets. She flicked a sideways glance at Omar, and put a finger up to her lips. “Yeah, don’t tell Harvey I took this. Also I’m a secret pyromaniac,” She rolled her eyes comically. “I’m giving Daniel a run for his money, don’t tell him either. Also you probably shouldn’t mention this to Seph, or- well, you know, let’s just keep this a secret between ourselves.” By the time she finished her slightly awkward phrasing, she had her chin and left cheek resting in the palm of her hand as she watched Omar.
Once she was satisfied with his reaction, she turned back, pressing down on the smell lever and ran her thumb down of the wheel. The flame flicked to life, and she silently lowered it down to the alcohol, waiting a few second before it caught, and then watched as the fire licked its way along all of the lines and dashes and the like. Afterwards, she shifted to the right a bit, doing the same with the wolf and then the breath. It was a calming look with the flames blue against the dark night, the only other bright thing in the clearing being the faint glow of the specters wandering around, minding their own business.
Another self indulged nod, and she slid back against the tree next to him, resting her chin on her knees with her arms clasped around the front of her shins, watching the flames flicker without a noise. She once more brought the rum bottle back to her leg, and she ran her finger along the mouth of the bottle, and brought it up into her own. She didn’t particularly like alcohol, unless it was mixed into something else, like coke or pepsi or other. She was never a big drinker. So instead, Soren listened to Omar’s breathing, and the soft rumble in his chest of a few escaped, incoherent words.