The Crone

Well I never, she said. I never thought of eating the noisy frogs. Are they tasty? raw?

But Galba, satisfied, slept.

Grim hummed a slightly impatient hum, and Glendenning and he set off again down the ferny path to the center of the wood.

In the center of the wood their lived an ancient crone, rumor said she was 2,000 years old. Of course rumor would have it that she lived in a castle of spun sugar and ate children for breakfast. Glendenning was not a gustatory fan of sugar, children or frogs really, and Grim tended to prefer succulent grubs & worms. Since they were friends of Marthooselah (the crone), they did not rely on rumor, rather the evidence of their senses informed them.

Still the center of the wood was many days' journey, and they were hungry. Grim foraged amongst the deadfall and toadstools, and he enjoyed suitable nourishment long before Glendenning had spied a rabbit or wood pigeon to bring down with her bow. It was not long, however, before a small fire was roasting a tender morsel suspended above it on a green stick. Glendenning's eyes were keen, her hands were quick, and she found luck on her side more often than was strictly natural.