Everyone knows the bog witches and their damp cauldrons, positioned over smoky peat fires, and their potions that go down thick with a mossy tickle in the back of the throat.
But what of the desert witches, with their cauldrons that resemble enormous sandboxes, large enough for a full-grown adult human to recline in, and bury one’s self under a sand dune to hide from the unblinking sun? When wandering the sandy expanses they call home, an unwary traveler may come across a stray peaked hat on the ground and not even realize that it’s a sign there could be a submerged witch there, awaiting nightfall to rise again.
Or ponder the arctic witches with their… snow… and stuff. Okay, we couldn’t be bothered to visit them, it’s too cold. That chapter’s really short.