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The room was preternaturally quiet. Usually, there would be an indistinct shuffle of person behind a closed door, some words spoken or even music playing. Instead, when Mort reached Belladonna's room, there was only silence. No music, no noise, no nothing. It seemed very likely she was out. That is until a soft meow was heard from behind the door, along with a small thump and in a few moments, the doorknob had turned and the door clicked open. It was slowly, but finally the door creaked back and a small, black cat with a too-long slunk around the door to stand in the small space of the doorway the slightly opened door made.
Binx blinked at the ankles of this person, then angled his head up and up more to peer at the zombie. Yellow eyes neither narrowed or widened, only continued to stare as the cat tilted his head to one side.
"Good afternoon, Good Sir."

For a cat, his voice was smooth as butter, but there was a distinctness of the flick of his tail when he addressed the boy that indicated he knew what had happened. When his witch had returned to the room and cried, each day worse and worse until it had become a week and she had so despaired she'd fled, there was no way Binx could pretend he didn't know.
So instead, he pretended her didn't know a thing about Mort.
"What brings you to the Reaper Dorms on this lovely afternoon?"
Another tail flick, but it died as the cat stretched out his front paws, digging his nails into the carpet for a moment.
"Is there anything I may assist you with?"
Looked like he might a bit chatty today!

The suspicious look was rewarded with a look of incredulity, or at least as much of one as any cat can muster. For a moment he pressed a paw to his chest, as if to show how very innocent he was, but the moment passed quickly. One of his ears flicked back momentarily at Mort's words, but Binx only settled himself happily on the floor and gazed up at the boil.
"Certainly you will understand why I am hesitant to tell you of her location." Another ear twitch, accompanied with a flick of the very tip of his tail. "Before I let you know exactly where she is, and do not worry I will inform you of her exact location, down the smallest detail... You must first understand exactly what it is you have done." Here the cat stood to take one step forward, which quickly turned into him wandering slowly around the boil. Though he did not rub his head against his leg or show any affection, to the innocent onlooker it would seem as if Binx were begging for a bit of attention. Yet the haughty and quick flick of his tail would certainly indicate otherwise.

"For you see, I do not think you fully realize the implications of your actions. You are young yet, and from what I hear... Just the tiniest self centered." Here Binx paused and let his head loll to one side, his eyes suddenly half lidded. "Not that Belladonna would ever have called you that, for she is much too kind." A sour look crossed his kitty face for a moment before he padded back to sit in front of Mort.
"You have lied to her, a few times if I recall correctly. You have not trusted her time and time again, thus making her doubt herself. More than that, when you did finally put your trust in her, it was to further undermine her opinions. So not only does she doubt your trust in her, she now doubts your overall care for her. After all, what is a young ghoul to do when her boilfriend continually acts as though she were a weakness rather than a strength?"
Binx's yellow eyes stared up at the boil, unblinking and unmoving. He was not so much waiting for an explanation, as he was waiting for some tell-tale sign that Mort actually wanted this, that he actually wanted Belladonna. While it wasn't at all apparent, Binx actually rather liked Mort and wanted him to push through this. But Binx also did not believe in coddling anyone but his witch.

His anger rather amused Binx, to the point that he almost chuckled, but instead he pressed a paw to his mouth and coughed. There were certain lines one could and could not cross, and Binx, though vaguely vindictive, was certainly not one to fully cross them. So instead he flicked his tail again and shrugged his shoulders.
"Who am I to punish you? You seem to have done a fairly good job of it already." Another tail flick as the cat seemed suddenly disinterested in him and instead flexed his feet into the floor, as though he wanted to knead something with his little kitty claws. "And besides, if you think Belladonna will do the job nicely, than I shall not get in the way of that." His mouth curled into a smile, little sharp kitty teeth all white for Mort to see.

But then it was gone and Binx had stood to circle the boy once more.
"I see you are eager to get this done and over with. I suppose I shall stop impeding your path." A sigh was inserted, so that it seemed as though Binx really did want to keep the boil for longer. But he pointed with a paw down the hall. "If you leave here and head toward the Monster Dorms, you will come upon a forest. One of the first trees should have some not low-lying branches, but certainly not high ones. If you look carefully, our witch will be in one of those branches. Look for her hair, rather than her clothing."
However odd his sentence was, the cat only dipped his head and turned around, slowly making his way back to the room. But at the last moment he paused and looked back at the boil, a flick of his tail one last little indication of some unknown emotion.
"And perhaps you should consider that if she got it all wrong, it was because you presented things incorrectly. Belladonna is by no means a stupid girl, though she plays the part well. You underestimate her far too often."
One last tail flick and then Binx slunk back around the door and slowly closed it. Should Mort wish to speak to him anymore, he would have to force the door open, but the familiar was sure his work was done and instead made himself cozy on Belladonna's favorite pillow.

Indeed, the witch had changed trees through out the day, but only because trees were not the most uncomfortable thing in the world. Yet there was still a comfort to be had in their steadfastness, in their unrelenting stance. So even though she had moved to different trees, they were still close to the edge of the forest, as one could not maneuver altogether too well on a broom with such close quarters. And so while Belladonna had occupied a tree all day, she had instead kept her thoughts as blank as possible. If she didn't think, she couldn't remember, she could recall the pain.
When Mort hadn't contacted her by the end of the first day, she understood and instead wished him well in the morning. When he hadn't contacted her on the third day, she had begun to despair. And when the sixth day still brought no word, Belladonna lost hope. Yes Mort might be slow, but the witch had hoped he would not be slow about her. So when he was, when he let her be, she let herself go.

In her melancholy, thoughts were the enemy. If she could just not think, if she could just focus on anything else rather than what her mind told her, things would be better. Thus, Belladonna sought the comfort of trees who did not speak, who did not judge and instead only offered their comfort and solace.
And since no thoughts had been fully formed, since the witch had not spoken all day except for in the morning to inform Binx of her location, when she heard a noise it greatly startled her. Not to the point of actually falling from a tree, but certainly enough that when she turned, her eyes fell on the one person she wanted to see most as well as the one she had dreaded seeing.
The branch she had found was only a foot or two above Mort's head, so that there was space between them, but not enough that it diminished the details that could still be gleaned from her person. Though she sat with her knees pulled up, arms wrapped around them, it could still be seen that the witch was dressed in the most simple and uncharacteristically Belladonna manner.
Instead of her normal dresses and corsets and bows and frills, she instead wore a predominantly black hoodie dotted with a few spots of lilac accompanied with a plain black skirt, striped stockings and a pair of simple boots.
There certainly was a reason Binx mentioned her manner of dress.

For a moment Belladonna only stared, eyes wide and hurt and confused and conflicted. What could she say? What should she say? She had been the one to give him the space and while yes, he had taken what was offered, it had been so long. Maybe he was here to do the noble thing and break it off with her?
Such a thought made the witch's throat dry up, so she only mumbled a small, "Here..." And gave him a feeble wave that only showed the tips of her fingers due to her large hoodie.

It was a bit of a surprise to see Mort in such disarray, though it wasn't nearly as stark as Belladonna's, but it still gave her a moment of pause nonetheless. It was understandable that she had let herself fall in appearance, but Mort? That was a little more unexpected. But it certainly gave the witch an interesting pause, for she melted at the sight of him. For a moment she let the sadness overtake her, let the words resurface and remind her of what had happened and for a moment she just wanted to jump down and hug him and let it all be behind them.
But it had been a week and the witch had had time to morph her anger into something else, a defiance now that she quickly latched onto. Her lips pursed and she whipped her head around to stick between her knees. If she kept looking at that worried face she'd break. Already his words confused her, as she was positive he was here to break it off and it seemed as though he were mostly here to apologize.
"I'm not going to hit you." She mumbled against her stockinged knees, her eyes focused on anything else but that spot of blue on the edge of her vision.

The offer to stay where they were was extremely tempting, as Belladonna wasn't sure if she was prepared to be on his level just yet. Trees offered comfort, but also protection. Should she need to run away, she only had to go up on her broom. Easy and quick.
"I'd like to stay here, for now..." For a moment she considered this, sure she had taken a wrong step somewhere, positive she had said the wrong thing and angered him. Quickly she tacked on a small, "We can talk about whatever you want."
After that admission, the witch retracted her face from her knees and instead lay her temple on them, so that she could look at a tilted Mort. A hand had to brush away her fallen hair that was free of hat or ribbon, but she finally focused on him. It hurt and was nice and Belladonna couldn't decide what she wanted to ask about first, so she only looked at him, a little scared, but still found the courage to face him.

Watching him squirm was strange and it didn't make Belladonna feel any better. In fact, it made her feel a bit worse, as she had wanted him to come all fire and brimstone and be done with her so she could begin whatever healing process she was sure to begin. But with him acting so confused, it only further confused her. And when he revealed the salad he had brought her, the witch was even more confused. Whatever could she make of that? What was he...?
And then, most curious of all, he gave a small little speech and Belladonna could not help her face splitting into one cracked smile. A laugh burst out and she quickly put her face back to her knees to cover it up.
He had meant it to be kind and had instead it had been ridiculous and whatever scared feeling the witch had had about this broke with her laugh. After a moment she looked up to see Mort rub his head and she shook her own.
"Its perfect. I, uh... I love Cockatrice Fruit and Veggie Delight!" She didn't actually know what that was, but it was the gesture that counted.

The witch took a deep, steadying breath before she grabbed her broom which had been tucked into a nearby branch. She quickly stood, hopped onto it and let herself float slowly down to ground level. Softly, she landed in front of Mort and let her broom rest against the tree. Suddenly so close to him she felt nervous and giddy and unsure of herself, so she quickly tugged at the bottom of her hoodie as though that would cover her and protect her.
"So are... Are you still.... Mad at me?" It was so ridiculous how she sounded like a child, but there was nothing the witch could really do about that. It had already been said with no way to take it back, so she only looked up at him with wide, hoping eyes.

"Well, I don't really know as I have never eaten it before... But it sounds tasty!" The witch replied in a soft voice, as though the quiet of the forest had infected her more than she had previously anticipated. Honestly, she had just been so still and silent all day that she didn't want to talk very loud, or potentially scare Mort away with her exuberance. As that wasn't really something she had going on at the moment, it wasn't too much of a stretch. "That's ok. You can eat the meat."
Gingerly, as though this whole situation might break or suddenly turn around if she moved too quickly, Belladonna reached out and took the offered food and fork. Truth be told, she was starving and would have eaten anything given to her at this point.
When Mort said he wasn't mad, the witch nodded, but didn't really believe him. Not entirely. One couldn't say such horrid things and not have been mad at that person. Belladonna had been very angry with him, so she only assumed it went both ways. But regardless she nodded and after a moment to smile at his waiting face, followed him to the ground.

Quick fingers had the container opened and just as quickly a piece of fruit had been stabbed onto the fork where Belladonna began a little nibbling process. It would not do to show her boilfriend exactly how hungry she was. After a moment of quietly demolishing the piece of fruit and having started on a second, the witch looked up at Mort.
"I do not know exactly what I am to say... I suppose... Um... Do you still think all those things you said?" She meant in the laundry room, but she left the question hanging in the air as she began work on a piece of lettuce.