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Characters: The Witch of the Candy House
Open? Yep
Where: Two Faced Forest
When: RH4 [or really, any other day if you wanna backdate]
What: In the Forest is a candy house, and a cranky old witch who wants these dang heroes to get the hell off her lawn!

Deep in the Two Faced Forest, next to a lake of impossible clarity sits a small candy house. Walls made of gingerbread, decorated with hard candy that magically stays unmelted in the sun, it's picturesque and inviting. Care to knock on the door? Or just have a nibble of the gingerbread? Either way, take great care. The witch is not known for her good nature...

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"Back again so soon?" the crackled voice asked from inside. "You're a stubborn one."

"So I've been told. Um...repeatedly. But, um, I'm actually presenting myself, this time, a-and you'll hardly have to worry about me eating your house."

Really, Giles still can't entirely believe that he's looking at an actual candy house. They may be in a world of fairy tales...but there are places where he just has to draw a mental line.

She gave a snort of amusement as she opened the door, hobbling out into the yard. "As if some insubstantial stammerer is any better. What are you looking for this time? Another round in a bottle?"

Giles actually takes a sharp step back at the question, holding up his hands in an attempt at a mollifying gesture. No. No, he really does not want another stint back in the bottle.

"Just...had some, um, questions to ask. If, i-if that's all right."

The stammering, however, she's going to have to live with.

She smirks at that reaction, hobbling over to sit on a candy crusted bench. "That depends on the question."

"Questions, actually. I had..." Here he pauses to run through the mental list in his head. He actually has a great deal more, but doesn't want to push his luck, so: "...three. Is, um, is that all right?"

She gave him an unimpressed look. "Start sayin' em and maybe you'll get an answer. Unless that's your first one."

"It wasn't, actually." He manages to retain his composure in the face of this, at least, and ticks off the questions on his fingers.

"First. What happened the night the thorns didn't appear? Second. Do you know if the rumors of the thorns advancing more quickly are true? Three. What do you know of the thorns on the whole, particularly the difference between the ones that barricade off these woods and the ones threatening us on the whole?

...a bonus four would be: did you happen to eat the sign changer? People are, um, getting a bit tetchy, without him."

"Same thing that always happens when the thorns don't appear. Everyone looses their damned fool head when there's no light," the witch huffed. "And the only thorns I know about are my own. Don't know why you'd think I know a damned thing about those other ones, they ain't here.

And why in bloody blazes would I want to eat that old lout? Or any person for that matter? Ain't no power to be gained by that."

"I actually meant to ask if you knew why they hadn't appeared but, um, i-it's, it's certainly useful to know that this is a regular occurrence. Um, as well as the fact that these are a separate breed. I'd, um, I'd been wondering about that. Thank you for that." He bows in an effort to be polite, even if, in doing so, he bows straight through the fence, and straightens up with a wince.

The crone made a vague gesture upward with her cane. "No other good way to time the damned things except the moon. Works fine 19 days outta 20."

"You, um, you approve of the arrangement that, that leaves you trapped in, in a f-forest full of bloodthirsty monsters nineteen days out of twenty, then?"

Giles looks upwards as well, although it's more an absent minded tracking of movement than anything else.

"Rather be in here with them that out there with you lot. They don't try and break my house!"

"In my own defense I, um, I never did actually try and break your house. Wouldn't even, um, even if I could have d-done a thing to it. I don't mind sweets, but...well, all things in moderation."

She gave a snort. "Instead you came nosing around as if being dead was an excuse to have no manners."

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