Dare hesitated on the back porch

Dare hesitated on the back porch, shrouded still with the hope of quiet, safe evening. She knew, raised as she was at the knee of her small coven, that sometimes evil would pass your doorstep without so much as a glance. In her gut, Dare felt certain if she stayed where she was, or better yet scurried into the house, nothing would happen. But it was the wolfspell, so deeply interwoven into the fabric of her being, that rose up, offended that something dangerous should be so close to her home. Dare paired it like a fine wine to her human impulsitivity and let it propel her into the darkness of the trees

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