A harsh caw split the silence as a black crow swooped down, wings grazing the wooden beams before settling on the angular shoulder of a waiting lady. Absentmindedly, she lifted one pale finger and stroked the bird's head, her touch as delicate as a whisper.
The silver mirror before her shimmered with light, casting her face in an otherworldly glow. Within its depths, two figures moved across a snow drowned forest, survivors of the avalanche she had conjured with such ease. Their faces were unfamiliar, yet her sharp eye caught the glimmer of green in one man's gaze. A sorcerer, then. Not of her coven, but kin to witchcraft nonetheless.
Her lips curved, soft and amused, not for the sorcerer but for his companion, the vampire with hair like deep ocean. His expression was disciplined, restrained, but she could taste the scent of death lingering around him. Not his own death. Someone else's, clinging to him like a shadow.
