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Summary
He isn’t sure for how long or how far he walks, but eventually he reaches the end of the path, notices as it branches out into a wide walkway that leads up to a small home. It’s well maintained, translucent blue smoke rising from the chimney, vines with fat leaves shrouding most of the bricked front save for the door and two windows, curtains drawn. Cerulean hues trace slowly from one side of the clearing to the other as he approaches the house. He observes the plants that seem to move, extending towards him, noxious blooms unfurled and tempting in their colourful patterns; notes the strange looking cat sitting in the window, fur almost a deep blood red; takes stock of the sharp and sudden electric smell of magic in the air, one that almost smells like his own but not quite. It’s shrouded in a smoky scent, causing him to stop as the blade of a scythe falls against the curve of his throat, deadly in proximity to his Adam’s apple.
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Ezreal's an archaeologist that hears about an abandoned temple and a witch hidden away in the woods behind it. He expects little, hoping to debunk a wive's tale yet meets Kayn, in turn. The witch that truly does live sequestered away in the forest.