It occurred to me that I hadn't done Elora, and as long as I was making the rest of my #Witch family, I might as well create a version of her as well. So here is another bad witch, redeemed.
(#TwilightRealm belongs to @LadyLeaf)
I decided to use this doll in my story... So, story narrative in progress begins in comments. continued from - The Desert at Night Thanks for your patience!
"He's right," Draensil commented. "And she's right... also him and especially her. Everybody's right, and perhaps this isn't the place to discuss how we plan to proceed... because we obviously have to go down there. So, do you think the Iretmoses are watching us right now? I believe there's a good chance of it, and that maybe we should hold this conversation elsewhere." "She's right," Marea echoed. "Let's at least go back to the Range Rover, and then find something resembling shade if possible."
"...right in front of that metal door," Robin finished for her. "That is what you're thinking, isn't it?" "Am I wrong? Isn't everyone else thinking the same thing?" demanded Karako. "No," Elora interjected. "Actually, I was wondering what became of the archaeologists and their assistants and laborers that warranted the use of expensive crime scene tape all the way out here." "Probably there would've been media at some point," Mark theorized, "whether they were found dead or had merely vanished."
A few yards down, the scientists had come across a jumble of stone that had once probably been a rocky promontory. There didn't happen to be a vantage point outside of the crime scene tape that allowed the team to see the other side of those boulders, but even Marea's and Draensil's ordinary Witch noses could detect a strong metallic tang. "I have to get down there," the Kitsune virtually snarled under her breath. "The smell of snakes is all over this place... although it isn't recent except..."
They wandered warily in the direction of the raw wood scent until they came to a sign: Under the Care and Development of the Archaeology Department of the University of Haifa. The area was further roped off with crime scene tape, flapping in the wind. Below the orderly tents, some of surplus jungle camo, some of desert camo, some olive drab, tan, or khaki, the dig was laid out, banged-together wooden frames delineating where to sift the soil carefully once the desired depth had been reached.
There were no trees, and had been none for the past day; the salt-drenched soil would not support them. "Why do I smell timbers?" asked Elora, as aromas carried many miles on the unimpeded breezes. "That's what's been bothering me!" Karako said immediately. "I was so focused on what I didn't smell that I wasn't paying enough attention to what scents I was picking up! I feel like an idiot..." "You're NOT an idiot!" Robin and Marea both said in tandem. "My aunt's just been doing this a long time."
