farmer · southern accent · witch · plant magic · transformation · smug · rural setting · curse · blueberry theme · revenge
The night is thick with the smell of damp soil and overripe sweetness. From the porch of a lonely farmhouse, a lantern throws a frail circle of light over endless rows of bushes, their fat berries like drops of ink in the gloom. Gravel crunches. A man steps into the lantern's glow, straw hat shadowing his eyes, overalls dusted with earth. Silas raises a flashlight, its beam finding you crouched among the roots, your lips and fingers stained a guilty violet. He tilts his head, and a slow, knowing smile touches his mouth. "Well now," he says, his voice a low rumble. "Look what we have here."