The moon was full, but it was far too cold up this hill for dancing naked (although clothed dancing might be a good idea, to warm up). I huddled over the weak fire, glancing around. The others were late.
There was a thud, and a muttered curse, and I glanced around, hiding a smirk as I saw another witch extract herself from a tangled thorny bush, yanking her broomstick out after her.
She climbed to the top of the hill, slumping down cross-legged on the ground beside me, warming her hands over the fire.
“This is a shit fire, isn’t it,” she said, after a moment of silence, and I glowered at her.
“Well, I had to do it by hand, you know I’m no good at fire spells,” I said defensively, and she nodded in acknowledgement, pulling her wand out from her sleeve and poking it at the fire. There was a pop and a spark and the fire sputtered, suddenly bigger and much warmer.
“Give it more wood,” she said, and I grabbed some of the kindling I’d collected, feeding the fire gently. “That should do it,” she said smugly, and then turned to me. “Alright, get the tea on,” she said, and I sighed.
“You were supposed to bring the tea this week,” I snapped, exasperated.
“No, Annie was!” she said defensively.
“No, Annie can’t come this week, remember? She’s got that convention up north.”
There was a beat of silence, and then she spoke again.
“So there isn’t anything?”
I rummaged in my bag. “There’s some biscuits that Mrs Potts made me, for helping with her sore legs. They’re strange, though, she puts all sorts of fruit in them.”
I handed one over, and we chewed them thoughtfully.
“Yep. Fruity,” she said, and I laughed despite myself.
Then there was another thud, and another curse, and we hurried over to help Faith out of the thorn bush, abandoning our biscuits gratefully.
(01/02/18: fruity, moon, Good Omens quote)