It happens, even to the best of us. You’re out, minding your own business, and before you know it, a cackling weirdo in a robe is stuck to you. Can’t peel ’em off. “This is my life now,” you think, already adjusting, and then some oddball wielding a twisty stick and talking to a crow adheres to your legs and slows you down.
You’ve got witches.
We’ve been there. First thing you have to know: Don’t swat them. Makes ’em mad.
Wait for nightfall and step outside. They’ll peel off and go looking for dark secrets on their own.