socially inept feral-child-turned-street-shaman runs practice out of cupboard
I love herbal witches all over the world. I have found them in marketplaces and huts from Thailand to Latin America. I follow them into jungles and through deserts and listen, always listen. They speak the oldest language: they whisper of creation as they gather roots and berries to make pills and plasters. They dry leaves and catch lizards. Their hands are old, and their eyes deep from from guarding many secrets.