Witchcraft, A Costly Accident
#1 of Witchcraft
Alrighty folks, I am back in action once more. For those of you who were curious, this is what I have been concentrating most of my attention on recently. Anyway, AbleArcher on furaffinity requested this from me a few months ago, and I finally finished it to both of our satisfactions. Hope you enjoy it as much as I did while writing it.
As always, comments are appreciated and requested.
Pasqual strolled along the road with an even stride, hands in his pockets and whistling a tune. Today was his to do whatever he wished, and, as usual, he was on his way to visit his closest friend. The bright sunlight of early spring was all around him and he smiled to himself at the pleasant weather, the first of its kind this year. As his booted feet crunched through the gravel that covered the road, he looked around him, admiring the beauty of this place. It was a nice contrast to what he usually saw, working day in and day out in his job. His destination was on the edge of the deep woods, east of his home town, and though it was within walking distance, not many came this way. This was because the place where he was going was the home of a witch, one of the rare spell-spinners that could sometimes be found on the edges of the settled places of the world. In fact, most of the people that one saw on this road were those who were going to purchase a spell or potion from the witch, or to seek aid for an illness. His reasons for going were very different than those of most travelers of course.
A sound off to his left caused him to turn his head and look for the source of the noise. His sharp eyes soon found it; a fox morph was standing back from the edge of the road, its eyes watching him shrewdly. Pausing in his journey, Pasqual stopped and waved cheerily, receiving a wave in return before the morph walked off, back into the woods. Unlike some people in his town, Pasqual always made an attempt to be friendly to the morphs that wandered the wild places, away from the cities and towns that humans frequented. There were many different varieties and he found that most of the time, they were like humans, except for some of their peculiar habits, which he ignored for the most part. Like the fact that they did not wear clothing, or for that matter, that most were able to walk on either their hind legs, like a human, or on all fours, like the animals from which they took some of their features. Add to that the fact they tended to live more wild lives, hunting and foraging like their animal namesakes, and it was enough reason for most to think of them as somehow being less than human.
Continuing on along the road, Pasqual shook his head slightly and pondered why some people had to be so elitist. Those morphs that he had known had always seemed as intelligent, or sometimes even more intelligent than humans, and certainly much less stressed. Resuming his whistling, he could not help but let a smile spread across his features, for he couldn't wait to meet up with Soho again. Soho was a red panda morph, a rather rare breed in that part of the world. Most of her fur was a light russet color, aside from the black fur that stretched from her shoulders to her fingers and from her hips to her digigrade feet. She also had patches of white around her eyes, on the end of her muzzle and outlining her ears. Pasqual had first met her when he had been much younger, and foolish enough to try to get a love potion from the witch to make his crush fall for him. He had fallen to talking with Soho while he waited for the witch to return from harvesting potion ingredients in the woods, and she had made him realize what a mistake he had been about to make. Needless to say, he had gone back to town empty handed. Ever since, he had made regular visits to the witch's home, where Soho was an apprentice. Sometimes he felt that she was his only release from an ever more frustrating life. He hated his job, and his parents never seemed to care whether he was happy or not. All they seemed to care about was that he was working.
But, apart from being the best friend of a human, there were a few things that set Soho apart from other morphs. She had settled down somewhat from the wild life she had lived, living with the witch and studying to become one herself, though she still wandered the woodlands often, bringing back bunches of wild-grown herbs to her teacher. Since they had become friends, Pasqual had even accompanied her on a few of her wandering walks. Other humans his age thought him strange for hanging out with her so much, but he didn't much mind what they thought. Soho had a way of looking at the world that was so new and refreshing that he considered her a better friend than any he had ever had. He found her company very pleasant, not to mention the fact that he found her to be rather cute. It was a somewhat confusing emotion, since they were very different, and such feelings were considered very taboo, but he couldn't deny it, she was pretty. As he strode around a bend in the road, spying his destination in the distance, he put the confusing thoughts out of his head and just enjoyed the sunshine and the warm air.
It wasn't long until he reached the path leading up between the grove of oak trees that shielded the witch's home from the road. The witch herself was an old human woman, peculiar in her attitudes and often times irascible. She disliked talking to anyone whom did not interest her, so he found it odd that she did occasionally speak to Pasqual when he came around to visit his friend. Today, she was standing outside in the yard, rummaging around inside a sack filled with odd looking mushrooms. A wagon laden with earthenware jars and other sacks sat nearby, hitched to the witch's horse. It appeared that she was preparing to go on one of the odd trips she took every now and then. Where she went and what she did on such journeys was anyone's guess and Pasqual personally thought it best not to ask. But, as he approached, the witch looked up and actually deigned to speak to him.
"I am going to be gone for at least two months this time," She began, speaking in her reedy voice without preamble, as was her wont. "Soho will be watching the place, but don't you dare go thinking that you can just have whatever you want in there. Do you understand?"
"Yes ma'am." Pasqual answered, with absolute seriousness. He had never been one to meddle in the business of the witch. The old woman eyed him for a few moments longer, squinting slightly as if deciding if he was serious or not, then nodded before going back to rummaging in her sack. Pasqual kept up his slow pace as he approached the old woman, but just as he was about to pass her, she straightened up a bit and put an arm in his path, a handful of odd fungi in her grasp, her gaze still on the inside of the sack.
"Go take these to Soho," She ordered, completely ignoring his surprised look, as if it was normal to order about near-strangers. When he didn't immediately take the mushrooms, she raised her head and bracketed him with her piercing gaze. "Are you deaf today boy? Don't just stand there gawking, go take these inside."
Pasqual nodded slowly, not wanting trouble and took the mushrooms carefully, a little concerned that they might be poisonous. As he walked by the witch, headed to the doorway, he examined the odd mushrooms the witch had thrust at him. Two had bright red caps and stalks, but the frilly underside was iridescent blue. Another was bright green, the color of emeralds, and it had small tendrils hanging from its cap, like a miniature willow tree. The last two were deep violet, with swirls of inky black along the cap. He had never seen such strange mushrooms, and as he walked into the house, he was tempted to smell them or even take a bite, though he knew better than to do such a foolish thing.
The inside of the house was always interesting. The ceiling of the main room was almost completely obscured by bundles of multicolored weeds and herbs, long strings of berries of varying hues and more mushrooms. Vines trailed up the walls on trellises, most of them natural colors, but one set near the shuttered window was an almost neon shade of blue. He had learned early to stay away from the blue vines, since they had once tried to strangle him when he got too close. What they were actually used for he couldn't begin to guess. The only clear spaces on the walls were taken up by a large mirror, shelves covered with bowls, more earthenware jars and a few potted plants, one of which was currently swaying hypnotically, emitting a curious sound, almost like a reed flute being played, or perhaps a voice singing in a language he couldn't understand. The scents were almost overwhelming the moment he stepped inside the room; he couldn't understand how Soho, with her sharper senses, could stand it every single day.
Speaking of Soho, the red panda's voice could be heard over the odd singing plant, coming from the next room. She appeared to be singing softly to herself, and as Pasqual approached the door where her voice was coming from, avoiding hanging creepers as best he could, he listened to her voice. She was chanting what he assumed was some sort of spell, for he could hear the low bubbling of water boiling in the background. Pushing aside the door, he found his friend standing at a large caldron, stirring it with a knobbly stick made of hawthorn. The fluid inside the large pot was opaque orange and frothing vigorously, sitting as it was over a bed of ruby coals. Pasqual walked in and spoke, watching amusedly as one of Soho's ears turned back towards him.
"Hello Soho," he said, coming forward with the mushrooms in hand. "I was ordered to bring these to you."
"Oh great, put them over there." The panda replied, smiling at him and indicating a nearby table with her free hand. Pasqual nodded, moving over to put the mushrooms where she had indicated, only to find that the green mushroom had wrapped its hanging tendrils around two of his fingers and was stubbornly refusing to let go.
"What the..." Pasqual exclaimed, wriggling his fingers and trying to pry the mushroom loose. He found this task harder than he thought it would be, since the moment he would free one hand, the mushroom would invariably latch onto his other one. "Hey, let go!!"
"Pasqual, calm down, it won't hurt you." Soho said, setting her stick down and coming over to where Pasqual was currently waving his hand frantically around his head in a futile attempt to make the stubborn fungus let him go. The panda seized his arm and, gripping the mushroom by its cap, pulled it free. The wriggling tendrils instantly went limp and she set it down with the other mushrooms on the table.
"What was that?" he asked, panting a little from the slight panic his tussle with the fungi had brought.
"Its called Vinecap." Soho answered cheerily, going back to stirring the potion. "Isn't it cute?"
"Uh huh. Cute." Pasqual muttered, edging away from the table and coming over to his friend, watching as she continued to stir the potion. Through the open window, he could see the witch driving her wagon along the road towards town and he breathed a slight sigh of relief. The woman was very odd, and though he doubted she had meant to hurt him by handing him an aggressive mushroom, he still resented it. "So what are you working on?"
"A potion." Soho said, giving the concoction a vigorous stir in the opposite direction she had been stirring it. Pasqual sighed at the obvious answer, and Soho grinned coyly. "It's meant to ward off bad spirits when poured onto the ground. One of the farmers has been complaining of ghosts haunting his fields. Want to help?"
"Sure, I guess." He replied, "What do you want me to do?"
"Cut up the Vinecap and the Blackworts, the ones with the black swirls." She said, indicating a knife sitting on the table. "Small pieces if you would."
"Okay." Pasqual responded. He picked up the knife and carefully grabbed the green mushroom by its cap, as Soho had done. It did not try to grab him again, but all the same, he found it rather cathartic to chop it into little pieces. He repeated the process with the dark mushrooms, finding that they produced a rather pleasant, earthy odor when cut, along with a clear juice, some of which got on his fingers. He was pleased that they didn't seem poisonous, but he did notice after a moment that the mushrooms now looked a pale pink, instead of violet, and, when he turned back, he jumped, for Soho's russet fur now looked green and the potion looked blue. In fact, every color was different. Finally, unable to comprehend what had happened, he exclaimed, "What happened? Everything looks different."
"Did you get some of the juice on you?" Soho asked, seeing his perplexed look and he nodded. She giggled a little before continuing. "Don't worry, the effect fades after a few minutes. I did the same thing when I first cut those."
Pasqual shook his head at her carefree manner and returned to cutting the mushrooms, careful not to touch the juice any more. She was right, his sight was already returning to normal. When he finished, he lifted the cutting board and brought them over to her. She nodded her thanks and carefully tipped the cut up mushrooms into the potion, turning it instantly transparent, but releasing a cloud of fragrant, multi-colored smoke. She removed the stick and set it on the table, then turned around to check a book which lay open nearby. It was written in a language that Pasqual had never seen before, but Soho seemed to understand it quite well. She nodded after a few moments, then spoke.
"It needs to stew for an hour before we can continue on." She said, and then motioned Pasqual to follow her. "Come on, lets take a walk."
"Alright then, lets go." He replied, following her from the room. Soho led the way outside, around the corner of the house, and then off into the woods. The pair walked together for a while, chatting about this and that, until they reached one of their favorite clearings. A stream cut its way through the center, dividing the clearing between a grove of pines on one side and a grove of beech trees on the other. Typically it was clear of wildlife and today was no exception. The only difference from their earlier visits that Pasqual noted was a small knot of mushrooms growing on the other side of the stream, a result of recent rains. He also saw that in the middle of the knot of pale fungus, a bright green Vinecap grew, its tendrils wrapped around the other mushrooms around it. He resolved swiftly to remain on this side of the stream today, rather than risk entanglement. The moment they entered the clearing, Soho dropped onto all fours and leapt into the stream, quickly submerging herself. While she was swimming, Pasqual sat down and watched her. When she came back up, her fluffy, white and russet ringed tail was almost a quarter its normal size and her fur was plastered to her body. He couldn't help but laugh at how bedraggled she looked, despite the wide, satisfied grin on her face. Climbing back out of the stream, she shook herself, flinging water drops everywhere and came back over to where Pasqual was standing.
"The water is great." She commented, pushing herself back onto her back legs. "Why don't you jump in?"
"I don't have my swimming trunks." He replied, but she grinned.
"So? Why don't you go nude?" She inquired, cocking her head to the side.
"Uh...um..." Pasqual stuttered, suddenly embarrassed. Her suggestion only made his confused feelings return, making him extremely uncomfortable. He flushed red and muttered quietly that it wasn't proper and that he wouldn't feel right, but she shook her head.
"I have never understood the importance you humans place on clothing." She stated, combing her clawed fingers through the fur of her tail, fluffing it back up. "It certainly doesn't bother us to be naked."
"I don't know how to explain what the problem is." He replied, staring at his feet, his face burning with a blush.
"Oh well." Soho replied, then went to inspect the mushrooms across the stream, still walking like an animal, leaving Pasqual to his thoughts. The trouble was that that was a lie. He knew perfectly well what the problem was. He was embarrassed to take off his clothes around her because he found her cute and he was worried how his body would react to being naked with her. He feared that somehow she would know what he was thinking and chastise him for it, ruining their friendship, something he would go to great lengths to prevent. Finally, after a few more minutes of sitting in silence, his burning blush faded and he stood up, stretching as Soho came back with the Vinecap hanging by its cap from one hand, once more standing upright. "We should start heading back."
"Okay." Pasqual replied, altering his stride so they walked side by side back towards the house. The trip back seemed longer than the trip out had been, but it didn't really bother him, for he had once again placed his odd thoughts behind him. When the pair had walked back into the house, Soho touched the mushroom to a string of similar fungi and Pasqual watched with fascination as it wrapped its hanging tendrils around one of the others. The Vinecap already hanging from the string reciprocated, the two mushrooms clinging tenaciously to each other, as if they were old friends reunited after a long absence. When he returned his attention to his friend, she had walked back into the room where the caldron stood.
In the intervening time, the potion had turned a funny sort of light blue, and Soho proceeded to cut the stalks off the two red mushrooms on the table, leaving just their caps. Then, she took them both in hand and held them over the bubbling potion, squeezing them gently. Just as she did this, Pasqual happened to enter the room, which turned out to be very unfortunate timing. The moment the juice coming from the caps touched the potion's surface, the potion suddenly roiled without warning, releasing a cloud of mist that flooded towards the door, catching Pasqual's right arm. The mist's touch produced a sizzling sound and a sudden blinding pain the like of which Pasqual had never experienced before. He cried out in pain and alarm, drawing his arm in close to his body, ducking the stream of hanging mist. Soho instantly tossed the caps aside, hurrying to help him.
"Pasqual, I'm so sorry. I didn't know it would do that!!" She cried, gently touching his arm. "Let me see."
"No." Pasqual stated, tucking his arm in closer to his chest. "It's okay, really."
"I need to see, it could be very bad." She persisted and he grudgingly offered his arm to her. All the hairs on his arm had been dissolved right off, and his skin was an ugly reddish color, raw and painful. "I'm really sorry Pasqual. If you can stand the pain a few minutes, I can whip up a potion that will heal that."
"Alright." He hissed, his teeth clenched against the pain. Soho nodded and led him into the other room, seating him in a comfortable chair, wincing every time he hissed as his arm touched anything. Once he was seated she went around the room, collecting a variety of herbs from the ceiling and plucking a few leaves from the blue vine, careful to avoid its searching tips which tried to ensnare her. She quickly began to grind the plants together with a mortar and pestle, and when she was done she tipped the whole mixture into a ceramic cup, which she then filled with water. The moment the water touched it, the mixture released an acrid scent into the air, making Pasqual grimace. But, more worrisome to him than the smell was that Soho had sprigs of two different plants in each hand and she was looking between them quickly, biting her lip in thought. One had light blue, oddly shaped flowers, and the other had V-shaped leaves colored white and light green, as if it was permanently covered in frost. "What is it Soho?"
"I can't remember whether it was Wolfweed or Wolfs bane that is used to finish the potion." She said and he stared at her, incredulous. "I think its Wolfweed."
"I thought you said you knew how to make it." He exclaimed, inadvertently bumping his burned arm on the chair's arm rest, causing him to grimace.
"I do." The panda insisted, nodding vigorously. "I just haven't made it in a while." She tossed aside the plant with dried light blue flowers and turned to the ceramic cup once more, pulling a few of the leaves from the frosted plant and crumbling them over the cup. When they touched, the concoction began to glow a faint ruby red, which made Soho smile. "There we go, all ready."
"Are you sure you did it right?" Pasqual asked as she brought the cup over to him, eyeing the glowing liquid suspiciously. Soho nodded, but he paused still, dubious. But his arm suddenly throbbed with renewed intensity and he nodded, gritting his teeth and groaning. She carefully put the cup to his lips and tipped it upward, making the potion flow into his mouth. It was so bitter and disgusting tasting that he nearly gagged on it as it flowed down his throat, but he forced himself to swallow. The moment after he swallowed the last drop of the potion, he felt a strange, fiery sensation sweep through his body, filling him with fey warmth. The heat instantly banished the pain in his arm and he watched with fascination as his skin faded back to its normal color and the hairs seemed to sprout magically from it. After only a few moments, his arm was as it was before the mist had touched him. He sat perfectly still for a few moments, trying to get used to the warmth that still coursed through him.
"Pasqual? Are you okay?" Soho asked, peering closely at him, apprehensive.
"I think so." He finally said, taking a deep breath and laying his arm on the arm rest. There was no pain when he did so, but he didn't notice it in more than a passing fashion. The deep breath had brought to his nose a new scent, something he had never noticed before. It was a strange, sweet scent that was noticeable even with the smell of all the plants that surrounded him. Oddly enough, the scent faded away when Soho walked away to put the cup in a basin to be washed. Pasqual shook off the memory of the odd scent, then stood up and paused once more, startled. His body felt lighter, like he had lost weight, and he felt his balance more clearly. Everything in the dimly lit room was suddenly clearly defined to him and the smells from the plants were no longer quite so overwhelming. And, as he stood there, regaining his senses, he realized that the singing potted plant's song actually had a definite tune to it. It seemed that he could hear more of the notes that it was singing, though he was sure he had not even been able to hear some of them, those that rang in the highest of tones, before he drank the potion. The plant's song was actually quite pretty. In short, he felt good, better than he had when he arrived that morning. "I have to hand it to you Soho, that was an impressive potion."
"Thanks." She replied, smiling, the white fur on her face turning a little pink with what he thought was a blush. Pasqual had never noticed that before, but he found it very endearing. He returned the smile and Soho returned the unused herbs to their hanging places, going back into the room where the caldron still sat, bubbling quietly. Pasqual followed her, interested to see what the potion would do next, but resolving to keep his distance in the future. The potion had turned an opaque shade of green and the mist had dissipated, making Soho smile. "Its all done now. Would you mind helping me pour it into those crocks over there?"
"As long as you are the one holding the crock, sure." He replied and she grinned at him, sliding the ceramic vessel over near to the caldron. Pasqual carefully tipped the potion over, pouring as much as would fit into each crock until the caldron was empty. Once each was full, Soho put the lid onto the crock and sealed it with beeswax. It took them at least an hour to pour all of the potion into the crocks, but when they were at last finished, he stood up, stretching a kink out of his back. But, while he was stretching, Soho grabbed him, giving him a hug. He was so startled, he nearly fell over, but before he could voice any protest, she spoke first.
"Thanks for your help." She said, releasing him and stepping back. "I am sorry you had so much trouble today."
"No, its okay." He replied, still a little unsettled. "If nothing else, it was an interesting day."
"Well, you should probably be heading home soon, it is getting late." Soho said, and he nodded. "When will you come by next?"
"Not for a few days," Pasqual replied, "I have to go back to work tomorrow. But I will certainly come back when I have a chance."
"Okay, see you then." Soho replied, smiling warmly as he walked out of the house again. When he had shut the door and started down the path back towards the town, Pasqual realized that it really was late. He had totally lost track of the time. The sun was already setting, igniting the horizon with bright reds and yellows. He had barely taken four steps out of the door along the path to the road when he noticed that the sweet scent he had detected before was back, but it wasn't fading this time. As he walked, he sniffed the air, turning his head this way and that, trying to discern where the odd smell came from, and finally, he lifted his shirt to his nose and realized the lingering scent was coming from his clothes. That, coupled with what had happened before made a sudden realization blossom within him. He was smelling Soho's scent and it was clinging to his clothes because she had hugged him. But what troubled him as he began to long walk back to town, was just why it was he was smelling it now. He had never noticed it before, and he doubted that it could be so easily explained by being a side effect of the potion he had drunk. However, oddly enough, he found the scent somewhat comforting and enjoyable, so he didn't find the details all that important. But, as night closed in around him as he walked, he was distracted by the myriad other scents wafting to his nose from the nearby woodlands. There were so many that he had to consciously remind himself to keep walking or he would have simply stood for a while, breathing it all in.
Also, even though the moon was still below the nearby hills, the pale starlight was more than enough for him to see clearly. He was so unnerved by these strange phenomena that he began to run along the road, quickening his pace. When the moon finally rose, he was halfway to town, and he paused for a few moments to catch his breath, watching the moonrise. The moon was about three days off full, and he suddenly felt the first stirrings of a strange sensation. The fey warmth that he had felt after drinking the potion came back, but this time, it made his whole body tingle slightly, giving him goosebumps. Shrugging off the feeling, he went back to the running, continuing on his quick way to his house. Less than a half hour later, he stepped through the front door of his house, shutting out the moon and oddly fragrant night. He greeted his parents warmly, despite their seeming indifference to his presence, then decided to skip dinner altogether. After the day's adventures, he didn't feel much like eating. Instead, he went up to his bedroom, stripping out of his clothes and laying down in his underwear, sliding beneath his blankets.
However, even though he was tired from his run, sleep proved elusive. He tossed and turned for a minute or so, restless, before he finally sat back up. Something was missing, and until he figured out what, he would never be able to sleep. On instinct alone, he reached out and located his shirt on the floor in the darkness of his room. Bringing it to his nose, he breathed deeply, bringing the scent of his friend back to his nostrils. A peaceful sensation washed over him as he breathed it in and he lay back down, sliding beneath the covers. He laid the shirt near him on the bed so he could still smell the oddly comforting aroma and then closed his eyes. He felt himself drifting off, and he didn't give the situation another thought. His last thought before he drifted off to sleep was a memory of how secretly exhilarated he had felt when her arms had been around him, her soft fur against his body...
***
The next morning, Pasqual woke once more to find that Soho's scent had faded, though his suddenly increased sensory acuity remained. He opened his eyes and found that, judging by the sunlight coming from outside, he still had about an hour before he actually had to get up. Which was a good thing, because it finally came back to him what he had done before he had fallen asleep last night. He thought he should have been disturbed that he had had to have Soho's scent near him in order to fall asleep, but the feeling just wouldn't come. So, though he was still disturbed, he shrugged it off and thought instead about the odd increase in his senses. His sight and sense of smell were both much sharper, as was his hearing. If he focused, he found that he could hear the sounds of his parents sleeping elsewhere in the house. He could even hear a mouse walking around inside the wall on the other side of the house. Whatever else that potion had done, it had made him better than he was before he had drunk it. He smiled, getting up to get ready a little early that morning. Whatever the potion had done to him, he liked it...
***
Over the next few days, Pasqual realized that the effects were not only persisting, but that they might be increasing, though it was hard to tell for sure. He also found, as he went through his daily routine, that they extended to other aspects of his mind and body too. He found that tastes were so much more intense than they had been before, so much so that he found himself lingering over every meal, savoring the flavors of the food. All day, while he worked, he felt an itch to leave the town, to wander. Most of the time, he was able to ignore it, but he was finding it increasingly hard to concentrate with it buzzing about in the back of his mind. In an attempt to satisfy this itch, when he was done with work, he would take a walk outside the town before returning home. However, while he wandered, he felt new instincts rising to the fore. Instincts that seemed a little wilder than those he was used to. The instinct to track animals in a hunt seemed the strongest, though he had never done it before. He did his best to ignore it each day, and to actually return to town before sunset, because after the sun went down, things really started to get strange.
At night, if anything, his senses got even sharper. He was now possessed with a restless energy after the sun went down that was keeping him from sleeping. And that was nothing compared to what happened when the moon rose. Every night, the fey energy returned, and with every passing night, it increased, only feeding his restlessness. Two nights after he had drank the potion, the night before the full moon, he spent almost the entire night pacing around and around his room, trying to exhaust himself so he could sleep. The exercise proved fruitless though, so when he showed up for work the next day, he had dark rings under his eyes and he looked just plain exhausted, though he felt as energetic as ever. He looked so tired that his boss told him to take the day off to get some rest. He was too tired mentally and much too perplexed to argue. All that day, he wandered the wild lands despite his exhaustion, utterly confused. He was tired and yet filled with energy. He wanted to sleep and yet he wanted to hunt. He wanted to sit down, and yet he wanted to walk. It was as if his body was at war with itself. Finally, beneath the noonday sun, he lay down in a soft patch of grass in a glade, shielding his eyes with his right arm.
While he lay, fighting the restlessness that gripped him, he tried to find some way to calm down. Finally, out of desperation, he thought of Soho and the way she smelled. Instantly, the restlessness faded a little and he smiled, the fading just enough for drowsiness to steal over him. The warmth of the sunshine made the grass he lay in feel like he was laying on a cloud and he drifted off into sleep...
***
Pasqual dreamed a very strange dream while he slept in the glade. He dreamed that night had come on and that he had awoken with the moonrise. The fey energy had returned in a surge, far stronger than before and he had started to itch all over the place. The itch had been persistent and maddening and no matter how much he had scratched, it had remained. Finally, he dreamed that he had started tearing at his clothes, ripping them to shreds in an effort to ease the torment. Then, he had dreamed that his body had changed, growing broader, taller and stronger. He dreamt that fur as black as pitch had grown all over his body, and that he had suddenly changed into a wolf morph. Then he had gone running in the woods, sprinting around with wild abandon, sometimes even going down on all fours, howling into the night with the raw ecstasy of being alive. He dreamed he had run all the way to the clearing where he and Soho had been the day the witch had disappeared. He dreamed he had run right to the frigid stream and then jumped in...