Based on a Tree Story

The red elf let out an impressed whistle as she looked around. “That's some real freaky floral furniture.”

Alma grabbed herself a seat from one of the wooden chairs and carried it over to the large central desk. The wood was moist and a green leaf was still poking out of one of the arms. She ran her fingers along the desk, recalling a memory from long ago.

Qu’l-Nia, with a strange smile on her face, was very closely examining one of the giant plants in the vicinity. It looked almost as if she were communicating with it.

Heloise had followed Alma, who was currently fidgeting around in her chair trying to get comfortable. The witch had quickly propped herself onto the desk next to her friend. Legs crossed, she continued to scroll busily through something on her phoneslate. Its cutely decorated pattern and many dangling charms were as eye-catching as the witch herself. The loud clacking of her overtly designed nails could be heard as her thumb ran paces along the screen. It seemed she had applied a set of new ones at some point after her shower.

“Would you look at that? @StricklyWitchness just posted a new fancy shortcake!” She leaned over and shoved her phoneslate in Alma’s face. “You know, she makes these darling little confections with a drop of magic that are just oh-so charming. One of these days, I’m gonna learn to bake and—Wait. I’m still mad at you.”

“I’m glad you haven’t changed.” Alma chuckled softly. “I can throw just about the weirdest, most far-fetched crap in your face and a few minutes later you’ll be looking at silly little posts online.”

“Silly?! This account has over three-hundred thousand followers!” Heloise crossed her arms in a huff. After a few seconds, her stiff expression cracked then broke out into a giggle.

Alma held up her wrist, pointing to her All-Strap. “I’d been keeping up with most of your posts. It’s not really my thing, but there were times when I was wondering how you’d been doing. I started getting worried when you hadn’t updated in a while. But what could I do about it?”

“Alma…” she cooed. The witch then let out an awkward sigh. “You really are an idiote.”

“Heli, what—"

“Oi,” called Hwalín. “If you two boneheads are done reminiscing, I’d very much like to get this show on the road.”

"Just as well," said Heloise, hopping down from the table. "The sooner I get you people out of my home, the better."

"Actually," said Alma somewhat excitedly. "I was thinking that after we figure out where to go, maybe you could come with us. You'd be a big help and we can even catch up on everything we've missed out in each other's lives."

"Really? Yeah, totally! I'd love to—" Her smile faded as she stopped herself from answering completely. Thoughts of the eldritch poison flowing through her veins clouded her path to happiness. "—but. I can't.”

“What?! Why not?! Weren’t you just complaining about how I should’ve come to see you sooner?”

“Alma, please,” Heloise said with a pained frown. “Clinginess is not an attractive look.”

“Macha help me, why are you like this? After all that arguing. And that whole speech about protecting me. It finally felt like we were patching things up,” Alma whined.

“Why do you always ask questions you already know the answer to? A bitch can’t change her spots any more than a grumpy soldier can quit being a stubborn dope.” She went over to one of the large arboreal shelves and grabbed a small pot stationed there that looked to be housing a group of miniature looking trees. “Just trust that I have my reasons.”

Alma clicked her teeth rather loudly.

“Perhaps it is best we not pursue this avenue, Alma.” Qu’l-Nia had said finally. “If she does not wish to accompany us, that is her prerogative.”

“I’m with Nia, Alm. I just don’t see us meshing well.”

“The talking thesaurus and her burly friend are finally making sense.” The witch placed the plant along with an intricate looking dagger down on the desk while parking herself on the large wooden throne. “Now, this little trick I like to call an occultic coppicing ritual. I slash away at the little copse here and from it will grow your answers.”

“I’m sorry,” Alma cut in. “Did you say ‘corpse’?”

“What? No! Ew! I’m talking about chopping plants. Why do you think I pulled these out?”

“We’re not looking to have our fortunes told here, love,” said Hwalín with a chuckle.

“Indeed, to most amateur spell-slingers, this would normally be a method of your standard divination. But if you’ve got the insight into nature as I have, you can gleam so much more!” She tapped the handle of the knife onto the desk, as if to make sure the tool was prepared to be used. She rested her chin on the back of her other hand and looked toward Qu’l-Nia. “I’m afraid to ask, but like, this… person you’re searching for. Do you have anything personal of his in your possession?”

“I am afraid not. This would be our first meeting in tens of thousands of years.”

“No, of course you don’t. Can’t make this too easy.”

“Is that going to be an issue?”

Heloise closed her eyes and let the air escape from her nostrils. Her eyes then shot open with a smirk on her lips. “Not for me.”

Alma and Hwalín breathed a sigh of relief.

The forest witch gripped the knife in her hand and traced it gently along the leafage while contemplating the correct way to begin her task. "This is the part where you tell me more about this person you're so desperately looking for."

"He is of the same elder race of beings as I."

The witch, this time, stared at her plant in deep concentration.