The Forest Witch

She heard it in the wind. She had heard the whispers before, but now it had a focus, a quiet sense of finality that had not been there before. She cocked her head, listening as she leaned heavily on her walking cane, then grunted to herself softly. It had been a long time coming. They did not call him the Old Man for nothing. She huffed a little laugh, then sighed somewhat sadly and closed her eyes. She started humming, then singing softly in tune with the quiet rhythm of the forest, moving her feet in a shuffling little dance. Her fingers moved in intricate patterns. They had not always seen eye to eye, but this much she would do for him.