Of course, she said yes. Freya said yes over and over until Killian swept her up in his arms and carried her home to announce the news to the other Witches of East End.
Ingrid just stood there in shock.
Wendy squealed louder than even Freya (which is an impressive feat), and wrapped her in a hug that smelled like flowers and expensive perfume.
Johanna cried and pried Wendy away to give her daughter a long, wet hug that meant everything in the world to both of them. "My girls," she sobs looking between the red-head and the brunette, "I can't believe you've both made it so far!"
"Ingrid, please say you're happy for me?" Freya begs walking up to her still-quiet sister.
"I-" she stutters before giving a small smile, "of course I am. I am so, so happy for you – and you too Killian."
He smiles glad to be acknowledged amid the fray. "Thank you, Ingrid."
"Well come on in here you two! What are you glued to the door post?" Wendy takes them both by the hand and pulls them into the living room – "Joanna are you giving them yours or mine?"
Joanna takes a second to catch up with her sisters racing mind, but then she smiles. "Mine, of course."
"Your what?" Freya asks with a sceptically raised eyebrow.
Running her hands along Freya's arms Joanna smiles, "my blessing -"
"Witches have their own ways of celebrating these things." Wendy interrupts, smiling.
Wendy wasn't kidding. The lake spreads out in a shifting, dark mass and catches the moon in its subtle current. While it plays with the pale light four ladies dressed all in white with red sashes stand upon the shore murmuring strange, old words. One – a tall lady with black hair and long nails – walks clockwise around in a circle with a burning cluster of herbs. Another lady with dark brown hair tumbling over her shoulders sprinkles salt around the same circle. A red head carries a ball of light moving counterclockwise in a slightly wider circle. In the middle of it all is a young lady with tan skin and dark, rich hair. The more the others walk and chant the brighter she glows until it is her light the water plays with. The tide moves in faster than could ever be explained by scientists – at least those of the human variety. When the water comes up high enough to lick at their toes all of the ladies come to a stand-still. Together Wendy, Joanna, and Ingrid make a triangle with Freya standing in the center and they continue to chant. It gets louder and louder; the tide gets higher and higher; Freya gets brighter and brighter – and then everything goes silent, still, and dark.
And then Ingrid screams.
Hello darlings! Thanks for reading! I know these are getting shorter, but I think writing more frequently with shorter entries might be a good plan? What do you think? Any guesses about Ingrid's baby? You'll find out soon – promise to post another tomorrow, and this one is Ingrid centered.
~ Lovingauntwendythecat