Content warning: food mention

From between close-growing tree trunks, I thrust my fist out into the path in front of your face, making you stop short. In my clawed grip dangled folds of fabric.

You took the fabric. Unfolding it revealed a long skirt in your size. At least, I hoped it would fit.

Clearing my throat, I said, “Hemmed with salt. A protective circle, to keep you safe.”

We both knew I meant from me.

Expression complicated, you slipped the skirt on. Then you waved a hand, indicating I should join you.

I stepped cautiously from the shadows. Now we could walk together.

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