Well, it seems that you've found your way to my blog.  Congratulations!  My small corner of the world isn't so small anymore.  :)
If you want to read about me, just look somewhere along the sidebar and you should find something to the extent of an overview of me, as a person.
But this introduction is to my blog, not me.

This blog is where I post my writings.  They're mostly fantasy writings, because that's what I like to write.
Here's a kind of list of what I've got so far:

   - The Well of Souhaiters: this is my first completed book. Woot woot!  (note: this was originally called Marcy's Story cause I'm llame and didn't know what to call it.)  Synopsis: Marcy is forced to stay with her aunt over the summer while her parents go to the Bahamas.  Soon after she arrives, she realizes that Aunt Jenny, strangely like her house, isn't all she seems.  She is promptly thrown headfirst into an adventure she never asked for, but enjoys anyway.  Who knew that practically all her family was magical?
   - one shots: these are just a bunch of short stories (mostly like really short).  In these I'm trying to develop my skills and so they're all over the board as far as genres/etc.  Some of my best work here.
   - Stealing Violets: a new series thing I started but have not yet finished because, well, life. Synopsis: A handsome thief named Kray keeps "accidentally" coming across Jessica, the princess of the land.  Kray finds himself falling for the princess, but she has a dark secret.  Can love really conquer a broken and battered soul?
   - The Journey into the Unknown: this is my way too long to be a short story.  It's like 17 pages, so it still qualifies as a short story, but yeah anyway.  Synopsis: Firespark the dragon has lived with his best friend Lilly the fairy all his life.  Suddenly, both of their lives are turned upside down as they embark on the journey of a lifetime. look i wrote this in 8th grade give me a break
   - author reviews: these are exactly how they sound.  I take an author and review the books that they've written (and that I've read) and grade them on the romantic and language content, along with the overall writing quality.  These probably need revision.

Also I should probably tell you that I sign everything with my pen name--Zoë Wingfeather.
With that said, keep calm and read on!
~~Zoë Wingfeather

Dance with me.

"Dance with me," she said, her eyes fire and ice--and they danced.
Blades whirring, they spun in time to the clash of metal upon metal. The sound echoed throughout the empty ballroom, bouncing off the walls.
Was it a fight, or was it a dance? The danger was so thick in the air that the two almost seemed to slice it with their blades. Eyes locked, concentration on both faces, their feet moved of their own accord as the clashes continued.
Gracefully they stepped, and gracefully they fought. There were two options in question, to live or to die. Only one dancer could leave the room.
Faster and faster they spun. Faster and faster their swords connected. Now they were sweating, the drops rolling down their faces as they continued the dance. The rhythm of their blades kept time.
Now a new sound rang out; this was the sound of desperation. Furniture was carelessly knocked over in order to escape the pursuer. Nothing would deter her. Her eyes were fixed on her target.
Her blade flicked sideways; her opponent's sword clattered to the other side of the room. There was no more rhythm to the dance. The end was soon.
Her eyes hardened. No mercy would be given this night.
The stroke was quick and clean.
- - -
"Dance with me," she said, her eyes promising--and they danced.
The steps were slow and sultry. Swaying back and forth to the sound of the orchestra, the partners whirled across the ballroom floor. The other dancers parted ways for them--they knew the importance of this dance.
It was smooth, graceful, full of motion. Eyes locked on each other, each gazed deep into the other's soul. This night would decide much for both of them.
Would they leave alone, or together? The question hung in the air between them, and they seemed to slice it with the intensity of their gazes. Nothing could break their concentration.
The seductive music changed now. The steps became complicated as the music sped up. Focused, the two refused to look away as they perfectly executed the complex dance. Sweat dripped from each; it traced little white lines down her face. Still they danced.
Spinning, twirling, the other took the lead. She let herself be led, but resisted just the slightest bit, so that it was noticeable. She would not let her partner take complete control of her.
Then the power passed to her. She led her partner strongly, firmly, but not too much so. Each took note of how the other treated control.
The music rose to a climax. Both had to work together--and they did.
Faster and faster they danced, and then--
Chests heaving, they stopped, frozen in time.
It's amazing what I think of at work. Actually, the prompt for this whole thing was my random thought, "dance with me, you son of a motherless goat." Not sure where that came from, but I like where it apparently lead.
I've been working for an inordinate amount of time on what was supposed to be a romance novella but accidentally turned into something much more. I might end up posting it, if my followers think they might be interested in that sort of thing...?
Ah, well. Feels nice to be blogging again, even if only for a bit. I hope I'll see you guys around :)
~~Zoë Wingfeather


every time she loved, she lost.

and every time she lost, a little piece of her heart froze.

she couldn't remember when she realized it.  perhaps she noticed it after the first few few times.  she was let down; she cried when no one could see; she felt as if a frigid block of snow had been placed in her chest.  her fingers and toes were cold.  she ignored the icy feeling in her chest.  she loved again.  she lost again.  she felt the cold again.

at 21 years old, her heart was already frozen nearly to the point of no return.  she changed.  her skin had taken on a blueish tint years ago, and her eyes were icy.  her hair, the beautiful raven black she had so loved, had begun to grow in platinum blond.  the coldness in her heart hurt her.  she was frightened, scared she'd never be warm again.  and when she cried at night, the tears froze on her cheeks.

she never told anyone, of course.  she couldn't let them see the hurt.  she wouldn't let them know that she was so very cold.  she just let them assume they were imagining her blue skin, let them think that she'd dyed her hair, let them believe the ice in her eyes was colored contacts.

the cold consumed her from the inside out.  and she let it.


(had this idea a while ago and it's terrible but whatever)


he cannot love her closely, so he loves her far away.

he's memorized where she goes every day.  wherever she is, he's not far off.  he watches her from the corners, from the shadows, just out of sight.  he knows the way she dances; he knows the songs she hums when she thinks no one's listening; he knows the way her eyes light up when she looks at the things she loves.  he's fallen in love with the way she smiles; he's fallen in love with the way she moves; he's fallen in love with her.

sometimes she can feel his eyes and she looks around, wondering, but he's always out of reach.  he cannot let her see him.  to do so would ruin the thing they share, the thing she isn't aware of.  he knows he would mess it up if he loved her truly.  he always messes up.  it hurts him to hide, but he does it to keep her safe.  so he ducks away from the searching glance of her eyes--those beautiful eyes he loves.

she's in his dreams.  every night.  in his dreams he never messes up.  in his dreams, she loves him.

then he wakes up.

and he loves her from far away.  


(idk, a thing i wrote just now)


So, you probably noticed I had zero content last week.  And, surprise, I have zero content this week.  I'm terribly sorry.
There are some things in my life I just need to get together, and honestly I've had the biggest writer's block these past weeks.  I know summer is supposed to be the season where I get a ton of writing done, but I just don't feel it.  I suppose the pressure of posting kind of makes my fire go out.  I'd rather post whenever I write a thing.
So for the slowly dwindling number of you who actually read what I post, I guess I'll be taking a break for until I write up something.
Sorry for being a brick :]
~~Zoë Wingfeather

My Illenya

Hi everyone!  :D
Okay, so--a few things:
1- I'm going to do my best to have a blogging schedule.  I'll aim to have something to post, whether it be Stealing Violets or a short story, every Tuesday.  Because it's summer, I should be able to keep it up.  Although inspiration is a fickle mistress and often doesn't show up (smh).
2- I'm writing this from the past because I just now remembered I can utilize the neat post scheduling tool thingie how cool is that so yeah Friday the 16th is when this post was written which I think is super mega cool.  Anyways, right now (Tuesday the future for me, Tuesday the present for you) I'm at camp.  Wahoo!
3- This short story was written for my friend Kiah's writing contest thing, so I had to use a prompt.  The prompt was as follows:

…which is rather ominous.  So, obviously, I wanted to make something completely terrible out of it.  With that expectation in mind, go grab some tissues and enjoy this heart-wrenching short story.  :)
I thought of the past few hours as I walked, rubbing my bleary eyes.  
It had been an amazing night.  My childhood friend, Gavin, had come to stay with me in my castle.  His coming had been highly anticipated by most everyone in the capital city, and most of all by me.  The preparations were begun months beforehand--to be sure everything was perfect.  He hadn’t visited in years, and he and I had much to catch up on.  
I was in such high spirits that I threw a party for the whole capital city--there was food for everyone.  The entertainers and circuses took the time and publicity to make a pretty penny off the crowds, along with the dancers, charmers, musicians, and bards.
The banquet had lasted late into the night.  It was like Gavin and I had never been separated.  We had laughed and talked about how hard it was to run kingdoms and such.  All in all, it was an amazing time.  
I yawned.  I was on my way to my rooms, ready to get some sleep.  I strolled by unblinking guards who had managed to stay awake despite the fact that it was half past one in the morning.
The years had been good to Gavin.  He had become handsome, and his eyes sparkled when he smiled.  He had also brought his wife and small child for me to meet, which I thoroughly enjoyed.  My Illenya quickly became friends with Ariel.  The two had chatted the whole night long.
As I thought about Illenya, I smiled.  She was such a treasure to me.  My wife and I had been married for seven years, and she astounded me with her wit and beauty every day.  She had retired early, which wasn’t out of the normal.  Illenya was delicate and often slept before I did, especially as of late.  She often complained that it wasn’t easy to be with child.  I believed her--she usually appeared very tired.
I opened the door to my room slowly, lest I disturb her.  My angel, I thought.  My beautiful Illenya, asleep once more.
And then I froze.
There, on my bed, sat Gavin, with a knife to my terrified wife’s throat.
She was in her nightclothes; her hair down, powder washed off, jewelry removed.  Gavin looked just as I had seen him just minutes ago, except now he sat behind Illenya with her in his grasp and held a dagger.  The very fact that he was in my room with my wife would have made a maid gossip, but with a knife?!  I was immobilized; I was speechless.
Gavin’s blue-grey eyes were hard.  Illenya made as if to reach to me and speak, but he tightened his grip on her and the knife and she ceased.
“Wha--”  I finally found my voice.  “What is the meaning of this?” I said indignantly.  “Gavin, what are you doing in my room with my wife?”
My childhood friend smiled, a wicked smile.  “Oh, you know I couldn’t just let this chance pass up.”
“What are you talking about?  Release Illenya!”
“I don’t think so.”  Gavin looked at her, then back to me.  “She’s far too valuable to let go.  As to what I’m talking about, well, you’ll find out soon enough.”
“I’d like to find out right now, if you please!”  I moved toward Illenya, intending to find out what had possessed my friend to do this, but once again he pressed the dagger to her throat.
“One more move and she dies,” he spat.  I stopped, my heart beating rapidly.  Dies?!  My Illenya!  He would not kill her--he would not kill a woman with child, let alone his best friend’s wife!
“I will tell you what my plans are,” Gavin continued.  “I suppose you have a right to know, after all.  I had planned on getting this over with while you were still on your way here, but as you can see that didn’t happen.”  He gestured with the knife at the room.  “I’ll enjoy staying here.  It’s a very nice room, but I suppose one can afford a nice room when one’s as rich and popular as you.”  Was that an edge of bitterness in his voice? I wondered, panic rising in my chest.  What has come over him?
He shook his head.  “Ah, Lance.  It was always you.  We were raised together, childhood friends destined to heal years of fighting between our nations.  We were always so close.  But you,”--his voice hardened--“you were more popular than I ever was.  Your father was richer.  You had the promise of a bigger kingdom to inherit.  All the girls loved you.  You had everything you could ever want.”
“I don’t understand,” I stuttered.  “Gavin, you were a prince--now you’re a king!  How could you possibly want what little more I had than you?”
“Don’t you see?”  He shook his head as if to laugh at my ignorance.  “Those childhood realizations fueled the fire.  They fueled my fire.  The idea only hit me years later.  You see, with our friendship, it would create a vulnerability, a weakness.  It was a chink in the armor of your kingdom.  I only had to slip a knife through and into its ribs.  Our friendship meant trust, and that meant I could bring a small army into your walls without you having a second thought.”
I blinked.  “No…” I whispered.  “This can’t be happening.”
Gavin laughed again.  “Oh, I’m afraid it is happening.  I only had to send spies ahead of me, convince a portion of your army to join my side with promises of promotions and riches, and your kingdom was taken.  When I conquer your kingdom, I will join it and create an empire!”  His laughter was proud and mirthless.  It echoed in my bedchamber.
I shook my head.  “But…if you wanted my kingdom…why do you have my wife?”
The smile returned.  “That was the genius part of my plan.  I have learned that the death of a loved one is what ultimately breaks a man.”  Blood appeared on my Illenya’s white neck.  Her eyes grew large and she opened her mouth.
“No!” I cried.  “No, Gavin!  If you must, take me instead!  Take anything, all I have, but not my Illenya! Please!”
Gavin continued as if he had not heard me, his sinister smile widening.  “That is why this must happen.”
I lurched forward.
Illenya screamed.
With one smooth motion, he ripped the knife through her throat.
Her scream was cut short.  Time slowed.
Blood poured onto our sheets and she slumped down into a crumpled heap.
Half unbelieving, I let out a moan that slowly grew into a cry.  “Illenyaaaaaaaa!”
Gavin released his hold on my wife and leisurely climbed off my bed.  I rushed to Illenya, the tears streaming down my cheeks.  “No,” I sobbed.  “No, it can’t be.  This must be a dream.  This cannot be real!”  I cradled her lifeless form in my arms.  She was still warm.  “Illenya, my Illenya!” I cried, my tears wetting her beautiful face.  Her face that I would never again see smile.
Guards wearing my colors stepped in the room, but I barely noticed.  I held her in my arms, unable to fully accept that my Illenya and my firstborn child were gone.  “No…” I whispered as I rocked back and forth.  I looked up at my former closest friend.  “Gavin, what have you done?”
Gavin simply motioned to me.  “Take him to the dungeon,” he ordered my guards.  I kicked against them as they forced my hands off of Illenya’s body, but I was weakened by grief and disbelief.  They drug me from the room as I wept, unable to resist them.  My last glimpse of the room was Illenya lying on the bed and Gavin’s twisted smile.
My cries echoed down the halls and joined the screaming of my people. 
Me while I was writing this:

I'm serious--I was so close to crying.  I'm close to crying right now as I edit ;~;
You might need to use those tissues now.  I'll give you a minute to clean yourself up.

Okay so all crying aside--did you like it?  Did I capture the heartbreak well enough?  Comments?  Questions?  Insults?  Constructive criticism?
I'll hopefully see you guys next Tuesday! <3
~~Zoë Wingfeather

Part 4: Caught Red-Handed

So the results from my poll arrived (thank you to everyone for completing it I love you all) and basically the overall consensus was hEY CHLOË WRITE MORE PLEASE
And, like a good blogger, I sat my butt down and wrote a new part of Stealing Violets.

I'm kidding.  It was fun.  Sorry it's taking so long to finish (smh).
But hey, it's coming along!  I'm getting excited to see what's going to happen.  I wonder if you'll guess where I'm going with it, hmm?  Ah well, we shall see.
In case you had forgotten, we last left our dashingly awkward thief Kray in the strangest place possible--in Princess Jessica's room, attempting to steal her crown.  Will he get away with it?  you can probably guess from the title but anyways  Let's find out!
Slowly, for fear of a trap, I sneak toward the vanity.
Suddenly a flicker of motion catches my eye.  It’s a person!  I whirl to face the form, and barely contain a surprised exclamation when I realize--it’s me.
There are five mirrors across the room in a corner, all placed at different angles.  I’ve seen them placed like that in a shop, once.  I had gone inside to see if I could find a scrap of cloth to mend my vest.  I remember overhearing the shopkeeper telling someone that they were placed in that way so as to show off every angle of an outfit.  
Snapped back to the present, I shake my head and mutter under my breath.  “One woman needs five mirrors?!  Women are far too expensive for me.”
I resolve to keep my mind focused on the task at hand.  Creeping forward, I come closer and closer to the vanity.  Thank the stars Princess Jessica just happened to be away this night.  I needed this steal more than I thought I did.
I examine the crown as I slowly advance.  It’s less of what I think of when I hear “crown” and more...delicate.  The crown--or is it a tiara?--is silver interworked with diamonds.  It’s dainty and very feminine.  There’s a large diamond in the peak of the crown.  It’s massive, larger than my thumbnail.  I shiver with excitement as I think about what I could buy with the diamond alone.  I suppose once I pull this off, I’ll take Blue and travel to a distant land, where I can sell it and become a lord.  Who knows, maybe I’ll come back and become a suitor to Princess Jessica!  I know she’d have me, with that kind of riches backing me.
After what seems like ages, I reach the vanity.  My fingers are tingling, along with every other part of my body.  This is what I live for, this feeling of elation, adrenaline pumping through my veins.  I reach toward the crown, and then pause.  This was too easy.  Something must be wrong.
I glance around the room, expecting guards to burst out of the wardrobe any minute.  But they don’t.  The room is silent.  My breathing is loud in my ears.
Shaking my head again, I stretch out my hands to the crown.  I’m not sure what’s gotten into me.  After all, this is one of the easiest steals I’ve ever done--and for such a prize!  I should be thankful.
Hesitant nevertheless, I pick up the crown.  It’s cool to my fingertips.  It’s a complete circle, the back being very thin.  I’m afraid I’ll break it.  It’s so light I can barely feel it in my hands.
For a few moments I just look at it, lost in its beauty.
I’m holding the crown of the king’s daughter.  In spite of myself, I can’t resist a giggle.  I’m holding Jessica’s crown!
I feel a sting on my neck.  Thinking it’s a pesky insect, I swat at it and nearly yelp when my finger comes away bloody.  I jerk my head up to look into the vanity mirror and gasp.
Princess Jessica gazes into my eyes, holding a dagger to my throat.  Her arm is wrapped under my armpit, putting me in one of the wrestling holds I’ve seen used in street fights.  It’s the one that renders the victim immobile and gives the upper hand to the holder.  And she’s not holding me loosely.  
Every muscle in her body is poised, ready to attack.  Her brown curls are pulled back in several buns and she’s wearing…traveling clothes?  I’ve never seen a woman in breeches before!  What is she--
She tightens her grip, those grey eyes as cold as ice.
“Wha--” I begin, but she cuts me off.
“Why are you here?” she asks urgently, looking me in the mirror.  “Are you a spy?  What are you doing in my room?”
There’s a…hardness in her voice, something I’ve never heard in a woman before.  I stutter out a reply.  “I--I’m just--uh--”
The knife presses against my neck again.  “Are you a spy?  Answer me!”
“I’m not a spy, I swear!”  The words tumble out of my mouth.  “I was just--I was going to steal your crown, that’s all!”  My mind races to come up with a lie.  I can’t tell her the real reason I’m here, of course--I could never tell her that.  That would be very hard to explain.
“But you’re not a spy?” Jessica asks suspiciously.  I notice the dagger is still at my throat.
“I’m not a spy, I swear!”
Slowly, she lowers the knife, keeping her hold on me nevertheless.  “Why were you here to steal my crown, Kray?”
I gulp.  “I…snuck in your room to see if I could find you,” I say quickly.  The lie picks up speed in my head.  “After I met you, I just had to see you again.  I figured you’d be here.  When you weren’t, I noticed the crown and just had to have it.”
“If I release you, will you run?”
I force a laugh.  “There’s nowhere to run, and I’d bet my vest you can use that dagger.”
She lets go of me.  I slump my shoulders as if relaxed, but I’m alert inside.  Ruefully, I massage my neck where she pricked me.  “You don’t mess around, do you?”
“No.”  I notice she keeps the knife in her hand, still ready to use it.  I resolve to not give her a chance to.
Why is she being so wary of me?  It’s like she suspects me or something.  Not that I wouldn’t do the same if I found a sketchy lady in my bedroom, if I had a bedroom, but still.  It seems a little over the top.
Suddenly, I’m struck by a thought.  “Hey,” I exclaim, “how’d you get in here?  I didn’t hear the door open.  Or were you in here, hiding?”
Princess Jessica raises an eyebrow.  “I just came myself.  And I climbed the side of the tower, of course.”
It’s said in such a matter-of-fact way that I almost believe her.  I chuckle.  “Yeah, right.”
Motioning to her dagger, she shrugs.  “I just completely overpowered you and held a dagger to your throat.  I’m wearing clothes that any proper princess wouldn’t dare let herself be seen in.  Do you really think I didn’t climb up the outside?”
I reconsider.
“Good point.”  I pause, looking around awkwardly.  The crown is still in my hands.  I hastily put it back on the vanity, trying to be delicate with it.  The last thing I need is to drop the thing.  “So…why did you climb up the side of the tower?  Where have you been?”  That sneaking suspicious of her eloping reenters my head.  “And where did you go, for the stars’ sake?”
Jessica’s eyes suddenly become expressionless, as if she’s trying to hide something.  “Oh, you know.  I had some business to attend to.  Nothing of your concern.”  She glances at my neck, where a small drop of blood has formed.  “I’m sorry about your neck,” she says, seemingly concerned.
I notice she’s changed the subject but think it best not to try my luck at pressing for an answer.  After all, she is the princess.  She can do what she wants for all I care.
“It’s fine,” I respond, licking my finger and rubbing the little nick.  The blood comes away on my fingers.  “It’ll heal.”
An involuntary noise comes from the princess.  I gaze at her, confused.  Her eyes are fixed on the floor and she’s…twitching.  “Jessica?”
Her head whips upward and she locks eyes with me.  “Woah!” I exclaim, taking a step backwards.  The pupils of her eyes are so small I can barely see them, and--I blink, taking a second look--her grey eyes are tinged with purple.  It’s a very strange color of purple, a violet, I guess.  It’s frightening.  Add to that the fact that her jaw is clenched, and I’m pretty scared.
“Jessica?” I say hesitantly.  “Are you okay?”  Her breath goes in and out of her teeth with a hiss--hshh.
Jerking, she inhales sharply and closes her eyes.  I see her visibly relax.  Her shoulders slump and she drops her head to her chest, then looks up at me and blinks.
I blink too.  The violet is gone from her eyes!  Confused, I shake my head.  I must have imagined it.
But there’s no imagining those jitters I saw…
“Yes, I’m fine.”  The princess brings my attention back to the present.  Jessica takes a shaky breath.  “I’m fine,” she repeats.
I’m not sure she’s telling the truth.  “Are you sure?”
“Yes!” she snaps.  I must have a hurt expression on my face, because she reaches forward as if to comfort me.  “I’m sorry,” she apologizes.  “It’s just…sometimes I get like that.  I can’t explain without…”  She sighs.
I inch backwards, trying to subtly work my way toward the window so I can get out.  I’m a little apprehensive, now.  For a moment it looked like she was going to stab me.  I can never understand women.
Jessica is standing there by the vanity, hands by her sides, eyes fixed on me.  She looks very tired.  Ahah!  That’s the perfect excuse to leave.  “You’re tired,” I say smoothly.  “You’ve just come back from a long journey.  I should go.”
“Yes.”  She waves toward the window.  “Be careful on your way down.”  It’s begun to rain, and I know the stones will be slippery.  I don’t know how I’m going to get down safely.
Even so, I’d better comfort the dangerous damsel.  “I will.”  I turn toward the window, then look back at her.  “Jessica?”
“Will you be alright?”  My face colors as I ask; I’m not sure why--well, I am, but…oh, I don’t know.  
“I’ll be fine.”  The princess manages a smile, which makes me feel better.  Her whole face really lights up when she smiles…focus, Kray!  “The side of the tower is going to be wet and it’s going to be hard to get down on your own,” she says, voicing my concern.  “Here.”  She reaches behind the vanity mirror and I hear a click.  “I often have to make quick escapes from my room, so my father had these installed just in case.”  She motions for me to look out the window.  
I do so, and I’m surprised to see small rods--hand and footholds, I note--poking out from in between the stones at regular intervals all the way down the tower.  I glance back at her.  “Convenient.”
“Indeed.”  Suddenly bashful, she adjusts her rough traveling jerkin.  “The guards won’t attack you, by the way.  Since I have to…leave a good bit, they’re ordered not to shoot at anyone climbing up the walls.  They all think the figure climbing up and down the tower is a foreign suitor who has to visit me in secret.  It’s quite the topic of gossip between…why am I telling you all this?”  Jessica laughs nervously, her hands busy fiddling with some unseen thing on her clothes.  “Go ahead, go.  I’m sure you’re eager to leave.”
I put one foot out of the window and gaze back on her for one last look.  “Goodbye, princess.”
“Goodbye, Kray.”  She gives a little wave.
I keep my eyes fixed on her beautiful face until the windowsill puts her out of view.
The little rods help me find my way down the slippery stone.  I know for a fact that I’d never be able to get down without them.  I shiver to think about losing my footing…thank the stars for Jessica.  I’d be dead without her help.
If I had a cloak with a hood, I’d pull the hood over my face and head.  Annoyed, I blow a raindrop off my nose as I scurry across the muddy courtyard.  Key word “if.”
I scramble up the two courtyard walls with some difficulty, but the guards are all huddled under a shelter and don’t notice me at all.  What a relief.
As I run back through town, I think about Jessica.  What happened to her back there, I wonder?  It was like something came over her, something…strange.  The way her eyes turned purple scared me.  I peek my head around a corner and dash across a square in the market.  It’s busy despite the rain.  Rumors of witches and magic enter my head.  What if she was cursed as a child, like in the stories?  I’ve heard old women telling tales like that to children, sometimes.  What if it happened to her?
I shake my head and huff at myself.  That’s ridiculous!  I sneak up behind a market stand full of apples and snitch one for me and one for Blue.  If it wasn’t a curse, what was it?
Thinking back to the moment, I wonder what set it off.  I had been rubbing my neck where she pricked me…but would the blood have set it off?  I was bleeding, but women don’t usually have problems with small amounts of blood, right?  If anything, she would have fainted or something princessy.  Then again, she did climb up the side of the tower in breeches and then held a dagger to my throat, so she’s no ordinary woman.
What was it…? 

Any ideas on what took over Jessica?  What do you think of her?  Any constructive criticism?
Thanks to everyone again on your responses to my poll!  It means a lot to me :)
~~Zoë Wingfeather