fluttering your lashes like ashes and embers

Lotte just gave a mirthful shrug at Alastor's little jab about doing what she wanted. Why should she do anything else? When, as he so aptly gleaned, no one was very interested in her well-being or what she wanted. She wasn't here by choice, after all, and no one else was going to care what she wanted or how she felt. That was Lotte's burden and bounty to shoulder. Which meant, as far as she was concerned, she could do as she liked.

And really, she had tried at first to save the crops and the land, but her family had sold them a young, untrained witch. Lotte had barely been an adult when she'd been brought here, and she'd raised herself the way she knew how, only the tenants of magic to guide her.

Nothing was given without something being taken in return.

She followed Alastor back behind the house, gliding through the sand rather than trudging (because she felt very wonderfully light and fluid anytime she moved at the moment) and wondered what it would be like to simply have anything she wanted, at any time. If that was part of being blessed with infernal magic, she could see the appeal. After all, Alastor didn't have to give up his soul or blood for each and every whim - he wouldn't have any left if he indulged every day, as he claimed. Lotte noted he didn't go into what exactly he indulged in, but she figured it was better to let that lie. It was enough of a mystery to wonder what he'd done with that blood of hers. There were the obvious suspicions, of course, but not having a real answer was fun. Something to chew on when she didn't have anything real to chew.

Everything looked the same as it always did after a storm - gray and still. The sand would blow away, sucked back up into the air to form some other storm that would hit, again and again until it obliterated them all, eventually. For now, Lotte wouldn't give this wasteland the satisfaction of erasing her along with everything else. There was more for her out there, and it had never felt more clear than with Alastor standing at her side.

"Everything." Lotte grinned, looking up at him with a sharp hunger. That wasn't a fair answer, of course, and Lotte was reasonable. If, as it seemed, Alastor was poised (quite literally) to bestow some gift upon her sad little garden, she might as well ask for what she wanted. "Apples, tomatoes... strawberries."