bletherwood

[bletherwood]

Tales from Bletherwood

By Virginia Didelphidae

Sometimes when you wander enough, you become disoriented. And in fairytales that's the best way to end up somewhere mythical.

Witch's Butter

In the depths of Bletherwood, there's a little house. In the house lives an old woman. She has long gray hair in a thick braid and round glasses perched on her nose. Her dress is brown with lace collars. No one knows her name so they just call her “The Old Woman”. She lives with a pooka named Pudgy and a magpie named Piedmont who rarely says things appropriate to be written down.

One day the old woman was taking stock of her pantry, checking her supplies for winter. “We have the jams and pickles we made around the equinox. They're still very good. We have the persimmons I dried last month, they'll be joined by the other fruit I have drying now. Flour, rice, sugar, beans- oh dear. My witch's butter is all gone.” She sighed, she couldn't go out to gather some right now, she was making broth and Piedmont liked to take the bones for himself. She then noticed Pudgy returning a jar of snail shells for his collection. “Pudge dear, do you have any more plans today?”

“No ma'am. I'm gonna nap until dinner then sleep some more.” The lazy fairy declared, grinning.

“Do you mind helping me?” She asked, fetching her small basket. “I need some witch's butter but I have to keep an eye on the cauldron.”

Pudgy didn't know what witch's butter was but he was eager to help the old woman. “I can do that. I can do that before dinner.” He chirped, wagging his tail as he took the basket and ran off before he was told where to go. The old woman sighed. Hoping he knew what he was doing.

Pudgy ran along through the woods. He personally didn't know any witches, let alone ones who make butter. He saw some crows and got an idea. He knew a young woman named Ara who lived in a tree with crows, she had a spell to see anything, surely she was close enough. The young fairy turned into a lark to follow the crows home.

When he landed upon Ara's porch he shapeshifted back to his human-like form and knocked on her door.

“Who is here?” Ara called, opening the door to see the pooka waiting. “Oh? Pudgewhick? What brings you my way?” She pushes her blonde bangs out of her steel gray eyes. Though her features could be seen as intimidating, her fanged smile could melt any cold heart.

“Hi Ara? Do you have any butter?”

“Butter? No, I haven't had any since last week. I much prefer jam on my toast.” She let a crow land on her scratched up hand. “Why? Are you hungry?”

“No- well yes, but no. The Old Woman needs some butter.”

“Why would she send you to me?”

“It's witch's butter she needs.”

“I'm not a-” she then pauses and begins to laugh a merry squawk.

“What?” Pudgy was confused, what was so funny?

“Head hahaha to the hahaha old dwarve’s haha haha mill haha.” she wheezed. Pudgy gave her a confused stare before turning into a lark to fly there quickly. Or at least as fast as he could with a basket in his claws.

When he landed, there wasn't anyone really here. The mill had been abandoned since the dwarf left to care for his sick cousin. Now the building was old and covered in moss and mushrooms, especially strange orange ones. He sighed sitting down. That's when he heard it.

“Mehhhhhh”

He looked up, and saw a goat. She had floppy ears and small horns.

“Oh hello ma'am…are you lost?”

“Mehh” she snorted. She walked past with a snuff. The goat looked at him with yellow eyes, approaching him to chew on the mushroom behind him.

“Oh dear, you really don't wanna pay much attention to me huh.” He joked, patting her on the back. He then remembered goats make milk and milk makes butter. “Do YOU have witch's butter?”

The goat looked at him, knocking some of the orange gooey fungus into his basket. “Mehhh” she began to walk away.

“Hey wait, your legs are longer then mine!” He chases after her hoping she'd take him to where the butter was. The goat moved a bit faster everytime he got close. How rude, she was making him run! He hated exercise.

After an hour of running after a goat he wound back up at the mill, he had lost her. “Goat? I'm sorry if I'm being annoying. I really need this butter though! The Old Woman will probably pay you! I can't really pay as I'm broke- ack!” He yelped as more of the orange stuff fell off the building. He looked up to see the goat, head out the top window, throwing them at him! “OH! You are a very rude goat!”

“Meh!” She snorted, tossing her head and stamping her hoof.

“Now come down and bring me to your butter!” He demanded as the goat snorted and bounced on the plank, raining more of the jelly like mushroom on him. “Stop being mean! I'll pay you! I lied about being broke!” He called, lying about his financial state.

The goat blinked and went back inside the mill. “PLEASE!” He begged

“Pudge?”

The pooka looked over his shoulder to see the old woman hobbling over, walking stick in hand and Piedmont perched on her. He felt embarrassed as he was on his knees, arms stretched high as he pleaded with the uncaring god that the goat had become to him over the past hour. He sheepishly scampered over to her.

She goes over to him and looks at his basket.

“I will have the butter soon ma'am! The stupid goat won't lead me to the butter and she wont stop dropping these mushrooms on me. I think she may be sadistic in her intent so stay back, I think she has a knife.”

“Pudge. Those are the Witch's Butter.”

“What?”

“Witch's Butter is an edible fungus with medicinal properties.” She smiles as Piedmont caws and cackles. “You ran off so fast I thought you knew already.”

“I thought so too.” Pudgy admitted shyly. Piedmont fell off the Old Woman's shoulder cackling. The young fae's spikes raise as he growls at the magpie.

The Old Woman sighs, picking both up. “Let's head home, and I'll teach you how to candy them after dinner.” With that, she took her charges home.

[bletherwood]

I have a character, hes not in the first story but they are my favorite

[bletherwood]

Hints to first story

[bletherwood]

This is the thing

WIP