"I kinda agree about the necklace."
"Fine; fine," surrendered the witch. "We'll do the grand, noble thing this time around. Get it out of our system."
As they prepared to leave, she gave the grove one last, lingering look... "Why did they settle here?" Rana muttered, seemingly mostly to herself... before turning away, her frog hopping along besides her after a clucking call. "They eat little fey, did you know little spider? Brownies and grigs, the odd red cap... *crack*." From the gesture and the delighted expression, that was the sound of tiny little bones giving way...
If there was an answer, it was too small for the other's to hear.
"Oh? Well maybe - just maybe - you do deserve a little *something* for not letting go... Despite my best efforts too."
The reply, possibly scatological, prompted a short, delighted cackle.
===
Sometimes later, back in the dusty, run-down remains of the old house, a new-born fire softly, softly crackled, as if unable - or afraid - of breaking the silence that had developed between the other two occupants (four if you counted giant frogs or spiders spinning webs in a corner)...
"So." Rana propped her tea bowl on the edge of the creaky rocking chair -- the cups, her cherished cups, were all long-ago broken to pieces, or gone elsewhere. "So... A bear."