Upstairs, in the quaint kitchen of The Great White Witch’s cottage. The witch herself sat at a diner set, sipping coolly from a fine china teacup. Things were certainly much quieter after the defeat of the Abominable Warlock, strange as it were. She expected miles of lines to be at the shop door, seeking help with reconstruction of the village of Hermit, but the only business she’d received all day was a Leshy requesting a magic foot cream. “I guess they just wanted to give me a break,” She thought aloud.
