A Tiny Witch's Terrible Temper

Previously

…Willow approached it with a reverence she hadn't known she possessed. She reached out and gently plucked the flower, its cool stem sending a soothing energy up her arm. It felt like holding a piece of the moon itself. She clutched the Moonpetal in her hand, its gentle glow illuminating her face. The meadow seemed to sigh with contentment around her, the air now filled with a soft, peaceful hum. She had done it. She had faced the treacherous meadow, and more importantly, she had faced herself. And for the first time, she felt a quiet strength bloom within her, a magic born not of temper, but of calm.