Witch Removal Plan

I met a strange person. "Bring its eyes..." He spoke in a slimy voice, and his overly long brown beard covered half of his face. Like his house, it was crowded and boring. I sometimes wonder if those luxuriant hairs come directly from my brain. I stepped over the smelly birds that had been piled on the ground since the first confrontation day, separated the vines hanging from the wall, and came to the window amidst the snoring of the black-furred fox, where there was only a beam of silvery white light that broke through the many blockades and snaked on the blanket. So now it is urgent, how can I get a beam of moonlight to make soup for him? "This tree looks very sad." He told me in the early morning with sporadic drizzle. In his mind, elves are still a favored species, and humans in Changhu Lake are considered a lowly species. On the third dusk of the day of persuasion I decided to explore his secret.