I offered her the seed, and she examined it with a covetous expression. Her brown, twiggy hand hovered over mine.
“Long have I desired this,” she said. “In the place of a pumpkin king, you would have a queen, not spooky, but beautiful and terrible as the blood moon, as tempestuous as an early blizzard. Sweeter than all the candy corn of the earth!” The sky around her darkened. Leaves sprouted from her shoulders, flowing in a cape down her back, and a crown of stars wreathed her round, orange head. She pulled back her hand and the vision faded.

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