tegerio

"Um..."

Added 2023-01-19 02:44:01 +0000 UTC

I floundered, taken aback by the old crone's outburst. "If respect is an issue, surely a display of magickal abilities will help you gain it. What makes you think everyone will immediately lose all respect for you if you walk into town looking younger? Wouldn't that impress them instead?"

"How will they even know it's me?" Mother Didelphis demanded. "They're more likely to assume it is some other opossum femme who has taken up my mantle. Obvious impostors are seldom respected!"

"That won't be a problem when you travel abroad among people who don't know you," I pointed out.

"Strangers!" she retorted. "How are they going to be impressed by me magically regaining my youth if they never knew me as an old crone? It will just be an implausible story that will undermine my credibility! Besides, I have gotten used to the many perks of being wizened and ancient! I am loath to give them up. I get senior discounts with most merchants. People let me cut in line. I get the best wagon parking spots. I can get away with yelling at random strangers. I can with absolute impunity tell youngsters that their taste in everything is terrible. And my personal favorite: I can make people wait behind me in long lines while I complain, or, even better, meticulously count out copper coins from my purse for a large purchase."

"Come now," I scoffed. "Doubling your life expectancy, regaining your strength and vitality, and not having to deal with the aches and pains of old age has to be worth giving at least some of that up."

"Not on your life!" she snapped. "I don't have to worry about aches and pains because I have a deep knowledge of medicinal herbs and plants. And I don't want to give up my membership in the E.U.G.H!"

"What is that?" I asked, dreading the answer.

"The Eire Union of Gruesome Hags, a highly prestigious organization! Being a crazy old hag is what I've built my entire identity around. I simply would not be able to function as anything else."

"Wait a minute," I said, as the vixen yawned and the mouse (bear?) examined her wrist. "Senior discounts and waiting in line? I thought you said you were a hermit from the wilderness."

"I still have to go into town sometimes," Mother Didelphis explained. "I need to keep myself supplied with plenty of ingredients. I make money by gathering and selling herbs, but you can't find flour, milk, sugar, and eggs in the forest. I also sell many of my baking experiments made in the outdoor brick oven next to my hut. I HAD it built; didn't build it myself. Paid for that with the herb money. I also take the opportunity, whenever I'm in town, to heckle that blasted pie harlot that ruined my life."

"Okay," I shrugged, resisting the urge to tell Didelphis that she ruined her own life. "How about this: I can make you physically younger so you'll regain your youthful strength and stamina. That way you can travel easily, BUT you'll still look like an old crone. A decrepit-looking femme that can do backflips and cartwheels is sure to catch people's attention; maybe even earn their respect! Does that sound any better?"