Inktober 2: Wisp

A wisp of smoke curled up into the air. The smoke circled the luminous moon until it shined like a round pumpkin waiting to burst into flames.

Slowly the wind wishes down toward the rickety branches. There, she stands. Her finger nails as long a needles. Sharp and long. If she scratches you, you will bleed. Gushing blood will put out.

What was she doing out on this cold, windy night?

She stood over a small pot the size of a small black bowl. A loud fire bursting underneath the charred bowl.

She reached into a small pouch and grabbed a handful of ingrediants and dumped it into the bowl.

What was this creature making as she crouched down low…so low that she almost had her entire face inside the bowl.

She stirred the mixture in the bowl with her long finger nail.

She kept stirring until a colored fog started floating out of the bowl.

She paused.

Slowly, we see a small grimy hand grasp the side of the bowl.

She looked ecstatic.

Her precious creature was born.

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