I am as old as the gloomy woods that I live in, or perhaps even older – surely you have heard of me as the witch of the sylvan glade or the crone of the forest… The Slavic folk tales about me have been going on for centuries!
The place where I dwell in is surrounded by lands of rolling hills to the West and lush woodlands to the East, with trees so gnarly they seem like they’ve been here since the beginning of time. If you go looking for me, be prepared to face a challenge – my little hut will surely give you a scare by turning around if you get too nosy.
When you lose your way, I will catch you with my magical mortar that can fly! I will make you feel as if you’re walking through a never-ending night because I use fire & hot wax both to do good and to cause harm. You see, I do as I please! Can you guess where I am from?
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