<div class="floatright">(https://assets.vogue.com/photos/58916dd223f9887c0e0e0fbd/1:1/w_612,h_612,c_limit/17-hailey-baldwin.jpg)<br/><div align="center"><strong>Janise Hutchins</strong></div></div><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Courier;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 16pt;"><strong>S T O R Y T E L L E R</strong></span></span><hr/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;">Next Post: 5.19.22 | June 4th, 7:00pm | Clearing | <strong>CJ</strong>, <strong>Danica</strong>, <strong>Faith</strong>, <strong>Felix</strong>, <strong>Layne</strong>, <strong>Liam</strong>, <strong>Lorelei</strong></span><hr/><br/>Janise doesn't react to the mounting tension, instead simply smiling and brushing her skirts down. It's only Faith's cursing that seems to garner a reaction, a narrowing of eyes. "Watch your mouth, girl. You did a brave thing today, dealing with that beast. But there's no need for rudeness." Janise walks a few paces away and as she does, she grows visibly older. There's still an elegance, even beauty to the woman--but she's no longer a young, slightly ditzy perhaps twenty-something. Now she's far closer to sixty than not, having hit that point where age becomes difficult to tell.<br/><br/><div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/ZslMtVb.png)</div>Her attention is largely on Faith, still, an amused slant to her lips. Meanwhile, Liam does actually manage to find a first aid kit. He might not know how to<em>use</em>it, but it does exist, and it is brought over to Lorelei. Perhaps between the two of them they can figure out a way to at least deal with the bleeding or possible concussion, but who knows? One thing for certain is the naga is not in a great way, and while she's still breathing it's a little unsteady. There's clear wounds on her body linked to large portions of the group, but she's not dead yet.<br/><br/>Janise, at least, seems to glory in the actions of the day. She barely pays any mind to anything but her own concerns, and her gaze is mocking as she locks eyes with the woman that had 'protected' her.<strong>"But oh, you asked about an egg. Now let me think...,"</strong>she muses.<strong>"It does get so hard to keep track of everything in my old age, you see."</strong>Holding a hand out, palm up, green-gold fire flares for an instant before vanishing. When it does, an oversized egg rests in in the woman's hand.<strong>"I suppose you mean this one?"</strong>She laughs, and it is an actual witch's cackle, straight from media.<br/><br/><strong>"I will admit, I was not expecting to run into other magic users. But you saved me a great deal of trouble, girl. And oh, you were so concerned about poor me!"</strong>She cackles again, delightfully entertained.<strong>"You're sweet. Why, if I were a few decades younger...,"</strong>she says, eyeing Faith thoughtfully.<strong>"Still, it has been some time since my last apprentice,"</strong>she cajoles, tone almost leading.<br/><br/>It's clear she has no concern now that the naga has been dealt with, revealing her true self. She holds her other hand out like one would hold a broom, and a giant pestle appears like a staff. She sits, and as she does a large stone mortar seems to appear under her, supporting her weight as she crosses her legs. For now, she seems content to converse, the egg resting in the folds of her skirts.<br/><br/>