“Check that again, are you sure?”
Irritated, the Warlock frowned. “What do you want from me?”
“Check again, I think something is wrong with the fountain.” Wings flapping lazily, the Dark Willow hovered a few inches above the ground, pointing at said fountain.
“Why don’t you check it yourself?”
“I already did but I need a second opinion. Maybe I’m wrong.”
With a sigh, the Warlock turned towards the fountain. He saw nothing that was out of the ordinary but humouring the Dark Willow he leaned closer, until his head was right above the water.
A sudden movement at his back, a push between his shoulder blades, an obstacle in front of his feet that made him trip, and the Warlock was lying in the fountain. He tried to grab something, got the edge of the fountain and pulled himself up.
He spluttered, water in his eyes, in his mouth, his clothes soaking up the wet within seconds. They would be heavy, clinging to his frame and restricting his movements. As soon as he had rubbed the water from his face, the Warlock glared at the Dark Willow. Who was sitting on the ground, holding her stomach and laughing until tears rolled down her cheeks.
Ignoring the Dark Willow, the Warlock stood up and climbed out of the fountain, which wasn’t easy with all that cloth clinging to him. Considering the Willow’s laugh, it didn’t look particularly graceful, either. Then he grabbed his staff which was floating on the water, but it made him almost fall in a second time because the clothes were too fucking heavy and pulled him forward.
He was dripping and it was uncomfortable. Yet he’d have to let his clothes and hair and everything dry on the air. He made one step and felt water sloshing in his shoes. Under the continued laughter of the Willow he poured the water out, one after the other. Then, head held high, he left. The laughter followed him for a while.
It was his own fault, he knew better than to trust anything the Dark Willow ever said. But she was a good performer, she had seemed so earnest.
A moment later, the Dark Willow was by his side. Whatever she wanted, the Warlock wouldn’t react to it. He stared straight ahead.
“Come on, I just wanted to tease you a bit because you are always so tense. Here, I have a towel.”
Still angry, the Warlock didn’t answer. It was probably another trick and he wouldn’t fall for it again. But the Willow flew in front of him, blocking his way. She held a huge towel out for him. “Take it. And please don’t be angry.”
“Why should I trust you with that?” The Warlock indicated the towel without taking it.
The Dark Willow scrunched her nose. “Because it wasn’t supposed to make you angry, it should’ve been fun. You know what fun is, right?” She cocked her head to the side and eyed him up, while still holding the towel.
This could be another performance but a towel would be nice. Carefully, prepared to jump back, the Warlock reached out. Nothing happened. He examined the towel but it seemed ordinary enough. So he pulled the hood from his head and dried his face, his hair. When he looked up, the Dark Willow was watching him. “What?”
She smiled a little. “Admit it, it was funny.”
“No.” He’d never admit to such a thing. It would only encourage her. But his anger was gone. It was too warm anyway in all the layers he was wearing, a little refreshment in form of a dive in the fountain hadn’t been so bad.
The smile transformed into a grin, as if she knew what he was thinking. “Okay.” She winked at him and waved, then she left for the direction of the fountain. Maybe to trick someone else, too.
The Warlock stood there, not sure what to do with the towel, but he had to smile at the sassiness of the Dark Willow. Because she wasn’t cruel, she was just exuberant and in this world, that was filled with darkness and war, it was nice to see someone in such a good temper.