Ursula watched Ezra walking away, her heart palpitating and she wiped her perspiring hands onto her cotton skirt nervously. She approached her friend, Sybil, and said, “Syb, why don’t we collect some herbs for my pa? I haven’t talked to you in awhile.”

Sybil turned, slightly, and smiled at the idea of going to collected herbs was announced and she thought about it for a moment, leaning back and forth. Going into the woods would mean getting out of the heat, and it was true that they haven’t talked for awhile. Mother was expecting her home in under two hours though…Ah, well. Finally, Sybil turned and nodded, “Yes, that would be fun. Let’s go.”

Whilst ranting, Ursula had taken to the dirt path that was littered with tiny rocks and crawling bugs. The duo left the widow and her house behind them as well as the displeasure that Henrik’s presence brought Ursula, though irritation and fury still remained. There was something about the cold man that made Ursula’s skin itch and she would prefer it if he stayed as far from her as he could. 

The walk through town was short and sweet, seeing as the church was already so close to the woods and Sybil walked just a few paces behind Ursula, eyes staring down at her feet. It was silent, until Ursula finally seemed to erupt, complaining about Henrik. 

Ursula began to walk leisurely towards her favorite collecting spot, her face still flushed from the dispute between her and Henrik. “Ugh, that annoying maggot! He’s so pretentious, don’t you agree, Sybil?”

Sybil smiled, just a bit, then shook her head, “I’m sure he’s a good person deep down, Ursula, he’s just a bit…” she paused, thinking for a good word to describe the cold man, “obedient.”

“Right,” Ursula chuckled, “obedient, heartless, and a waste of space. If anything, he’s the witch! You’re words are too kind for such a despicable man.”

“Ursula!” Sybil gasped, silvery eyes widening at her friend’s sudden accusation, “yes, he may be cold but he’s a person as well. Accusing him of witchcraft is wrong and you know it.” She felt her voice rise a bit, feeling much warmer than before. Around, the town’s gray and brown colors faded away into thick greenery, and the earth below became softer. The air was much cooler as well, and Sybil took a deep breath of the forest wind, trying to calm her nerves just a bit.

They finally arrived in the tiny spot in which the abundance of Warren’s herbs grew. It was a small area with tall, yellow grasses and shading trees that gave relief from the sun. The herb spot was dotted with plants such as rosemary and sage which could be used later medicine at the apothecary that Ursula’s father manages.

Ursula bit her lip, slightly ashamed. “Yes, I know. I didn’t mean it, but how is my accusation crueler than his willingness to throw Millicent to the magistrate?” The freshness of her anger began to dissipate as it fell into discomfort and she began to pick up herbs, placing them in her lap. “I mean…how could Millicent be a witch? She’s just a kind old woman who has been through too much. Do you think she is a witch?”

Sybil sighed and kneeled beside her friend, shifting through the grass with a knowledgeable hand. She remained silent for a while, listening to Ursula rant with open ears until her mind began to drift about Millicent as well. That poor widow, she was indeed secretive, but Sybil’s mother had often said not to judge a book by its cover. There was something, though, about the Grant house that had made her feel somewhat uncomfortable, she just couldn’t pinpoint what it was. Eventually, Sybil was pulled from her thoughts and turned to stare at Ursula, who had asked what she thought about the accusation, and she lowered her head and whispered, “I…I don’t know really. I want to say no but…” Sybil felt her fist tightened around a clump of sage, “I just got a strange feeling when I saw her house before. It’s got to be nothing, though.”

Ursula shifted uncomfortably, thoughts of the aged Millicent circling around her head. The woman had never done anything wrong, so why were so many people willing to even entertain the thought of her being a witch? The towns have fallen into chaos with these foolish witch hunts! Have all the women this town convicted really witches? Were there even such things as witches anymore? This wasn’t the first time Ursula had such thoughts, she doubted it would be the last. As it is, there is no solid proof of their existence and the trials would kill innocent women otherwise. The population was dwindling, birth rates falling; this town was enveloped in horror. “If that is what you think.” Ursula said instead of all the thoughts swirling around her head. What a beautiful, horrid day.

Sybil sighed, staring down at her dirt-covered lap with tired eyes. She thought back to the scene with Tom Young and then felt herself thinking about what Ezra had said. The black-haired boy was obviously interested in investigating the house, Sybil could see it in his eyes, and she turned to face Ursula, smiling just a bit. “Your friend, Ezra, looked as though he would be looking into the issue.” She said in her small voice, eyes twinkling with mischief.

Ursula smiled to herself, thinking of the diverse boy. “He’s a little too curious for his own good.” If it wasn’t true, then she had wings. Then, she noticed belatedly, that Sybil had acknowledged their friendship, something that was best kept small lest someone were to get an idea. “And we’re just acquaintances.” It was a pathetic lie that would be effortlessly seen through by her close friend. 

Sybil turned and smiled at her friend, “I hope you realize I don’t believe that for a second.” Laughter bubbled from her chest and she turned her blue eyes upwards, “he’s cute, isn’t he?” She teased, a mischievous smirk dominating her normally politely emotionless face. Around them, the forest bustled with life, insects, animals, wind, and Sybil thought for a moment that they were in their own little world, chit-chatting merrily, where nothing bad could happen, but was then dragged back to reality when something sharp snagged her finger while digging through the grass patch and the flesh split, allowing blood to spill. A curse rose and fell as she quickly lifted her pointer finger up to her mouth and began sucking on the wound.

A compliment towards the man she was friendly with died on her lips upon seeing the red dribbling from flesh. “Are you okay? I think we have enough for now, we should head back before your parents grow angry.” Ursula ripped a piece of her sleeve off and gave it to Sybil to wrap around her bleeding finger.

Sybil accepted the sleeve with a bow of the head and quickly tended to her bloody finger before gathering up her apron and standing. The herbs in her lap slowly shifted and settled within the make-shift carrier of her apron, and Sybil made sure to dust off her backside before they began wandering back towards town. A comfortable silence settled between the two, and the coolness of the forest very quickly faded back into Warren’s blistering afternoon. Sybil stared ahead at the brown path, feeling somewhat dreamy without knowing exactly why, and when they reached the center of town she turned to Ursula and smiled, holding out her apron so the other girl could take the herbs that would be no use to a farm girl like herself, “Today was fun. I’ll see ya ‘round. And,” she leaned in close and whispered, “good luck with Ezra.” Before turning to walking home, leaving a blushing Ursula behind.