Emma shoved her hands in her pockets as she walked, feeling the coolness of the day. It had been a long day, and after three hours of Maths homework (that she was trying very hard not to fail) all that she wanted to do was get out. And practice. After all, how was she meant to defend herself if she was attacked by hunters again. She moved through the forest quickly, swiftly until she came to the abandoned house.
Please, no one be in, she thought as she went up the stairs slowly. She was slightly wary. Being stabbed in the gut did that to you. Thankfully no one was in. Dumping her bag, she sat herself on the sofa with a thump, and gulped down a mouthful of water from the bottle that she had in her hand, as she pondered the idea that she had in mind.
She hadn't been practicing magic very long, and although she considered herself proficient (in other words, she wasn't making stuff explode every time she lost her temper). She knew that she would never be a particularly powerful witch... but the psychic stuff, she was getting good at. It frightened the pants of her some times, but it was fascinating. However it wouldn't help her defend herself. What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger (even if she did nearly bleed to death all over the back of someone's car). To survive, Emma thought grimly, she would have to fight like a girl.
So, standing up, she went to the table and sat down, clearing a small space, and on it, she placed a candle. Nothing special about it, just a candle. Taking a deep breath, she gazed at the wick, and willed heat, fire and flame. "Give me fire," she breathed, and watched as the wick burst into flame. It was a small achievement, but still. It was a step forward. She blew it out, and was about to start again when the door opened.
