Baba watched him carefully, curious to see what exactly he was doing. Her head tilted, her eyes wide. She leaned over to see everything; it made her look the age of the face she wore. It wasn't often she got to do this, watch a child grow. Oh, she could nudge and push on some of the people in the City; she could bring out this or that, but this was a child who needed so much guidance to see his true potential. It almost made her nostalgic for the days before the Adversary. For the days when that damn witch Frau Totenkinder was nothing more than a little warning to bad boys and girls, and Baba Yaga was the one they sought for truth in the dark woods. But it was only an almost nostalgia; she had plans after all.
"You think I was meant to be this way, while resting in my mother?" Baba looked down at her own feet and then her hands, smiling absently. She did not remember ever being born, not the way he apparently meant. She simply existed.
When he finally pulled his foot out, she saw the shift in him. He did like to be free, didn't he, but he was still so very afraid. Knowing this, she laughed anyway. It was a truly happy laugh, nothing cruel.
"Oh, look at your foot!" Before he could move or get confused, her hand was on his knee. "Oh, that's wonderful. This is what you hide away? That must be so very painful. I can only imagine. I've had my hands bound, unable to move my fingers. But to be forced to have my fingers bound in uncomfortable gloves then to add to that walking on my hands? No. That doesn't do at all. Take the other off! Take it off!" She clapped, smiling. He was definitely a Beast, not as beastly as the one she'd known, but he certainly wasn't a Mundie with those feet.
"They're beautiful, simply beautiful." Who knew the City may give her a chance to write stories, something no Fable had really been given the chance to do? At least no Fable she'd met or heard of, not even the Adversary.