SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES
She hears the daughter approach, though she does not immediately turn her head to look. She does not know, in that moment, that it is the daughter at all. In that moment there is only the quiet unease of knowing that someone was coming to disturb her solitude.
And certainly, she should expect it, because there is no reason a leader should exist so thoroughly out of reach. The viper is not approachable by any stretch of the imagination, but there must exist a certain understanding that she is available to those living in the Cove should they need her. (They seldom do, though, as they tend to be a self-reliant breed who live there).
She does not turn her head until the daughter speaks. Tirza, the firstborn daughter. Grown now, a self-possessed girl for whom she had once wanted such greatness. It is the reason she had asked the magicians for eternal life for the daughter. She wonders idly if it is too late now. Gospel has never wanted greatness for herself but she had wanted for her children to be greater than she was.
“Hello, Tirza,” she says, not unkindly, though there is nothing overtly warm or maternal in her tone either. “Your sister is a ghost,” she tells the daughter, though does not elaborate further. She had not caught the way Tirza’s gaze lingered, but she knows the question had likely sprung into her mind.
@[Tirza]