There were very many things that the young witch could say that, without a doubt, she hated doing. And truly, the shop she ran usually fulfilled most of those requirements. If it were up to Elanora, she would spent every moment isolated in her back room, pouring over the books and making herself stronger, better at potions, better at magic. But ah, magic couldn't create food (at least Elanora hadn't figured out how to do that) and she had to get money somehow. So she spent her day selling potions to those who were too naïve to figure out that they shouldn't buy from her. Or reading tarots to those who needed to hear something good in their lives â€" though she couldn't deny that giving someone a bad reading gave her joy now and again. They were the little things that made the day worth it and kept the girl from the desire to stick her head in the oven.

Business had been remarkably good, even in the short time that she'd moved in to her new shop. She'd done tarots before, even sold her potions, though never at anything more impressive than a card table on a street corner. But that was old news, now she could afford the shop and as she such she'd been rewarded by the influx of business that went with it. Though she couldn't deny the pleasure she got from the money that came in at the barest of her efforts. And the money came in on the tarot cards and fake potions well enough that the girl was living comfortably.

Today had been remarkably dull, especially with the faerie man that had insisted on spending over the last hour with her. He had been the easy type to read, sitting down for a tarot reading and asking about a woman he was attempting to woo. He looked like a doorknob, Elanora was afraid, and she could certainly see why the woman was wanting anything but to fall in love with him. But he was the easy type, the type that would blow hundreds of dollars on anything to make his dreams come true, so she was patient, smiling, reading the tarot cards and telling him how she would fall for him soon. Still, even though he'd paid up for the tarot card reading â€" which the girl had considerably overcharged the man for, he'd still milled around in the potion section of the shop, bringing up every last bottle to ask her the effects it would have on his beloved. She couldn't tell him that it would do nothing, of course â€" even though it was just crushed roses and water â€" so instead she played the patient card, telling him imaginary effects. Just when she'd thought he'd buy something, he'd reconsider, and by the time he was finally at the counter to pay for the ten different bottles of potions he'd picked out â€" all varying degrees of water, of course â€" Elanora was fed up with him.

The man that strode into the store then caused the woman to look up. Even without any of her senses, it was easy to see by the cocky demeanor of the man that he was a Hunter. Elanora's smile faltered, fully prepared to tell the man to get the hell out of her shop when the faerie across from her stepped back, hands going up in the air. What a fucking moron, as if anyone could think the hunter was here for him. He was here for her and Elanora knew that. Still, at the man's insistence, the faerie man bolted from the store along with the human who had seemed to think he had the best idea.

The witch turned her gaze to the hunter then, hardly giving a damn that he insisted they needed to talk. "You just cost me almost two hours and hundreds of dollars of my life, you inconsiderate crouton." She shoved the register drawer closed, moving to lean against the back counter as she crossed her arms. Hunters were the worst sort, lower on the list of things Elanora liked than Weres even, and she hated Weres. Still, she showed no indication of fear towards the hunter, only annoyance. How dare he think he could stride into her shop and boss her around.

"Potions," The woman replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes at the Hunter's question. "That's why it says on the door 'Potions and Tarot Readings'. Really, I know your Council is severely outdated, but I thought they at least taught you how to read." That she was toying with him was obvious, the girl hardly having the patience to deal with this intrusion on her time. Didn't he see she had people to scam, people he had just drove off with his annoying presence. "Now, I answered your question. You can get out now. I have a no Hunters policy. It's right there with my 'no shoes, no shirt, no Weres' policy. You can find both posted on the door." With that, the girl merely turned on her heels, leaving the man alone in the shop as she strode to the back room where she kept her real potions, clearly having decided he was worth no more of her time.