I am the son of a merchant.

And I had given my word.

I would abide by the word of it, though I intended to have them both. Such was the oath of a merchant, aiming for profit in the space between letters.

I touched a finger to the burn on her face, a blistered mark that resembled the lightning that caused it.

I considered my limited repertoire of magics, and dismissed them as useful; they'd been forged in battle and only suited violent purposes.

But, there was something I had. The most basic and instinctual spell I possessed, except perhaps for expelling enchanted cum. The power to drain life and magic.

Except, that wasn't quite true. Each use of power was a response to certain desire. A need. A specific want, made manifest.

And for me, that started with hunger. So, to 'consume' was the desire I needed. Devour the darkness and leave her clean of it, so I might dye her more thoroughly in my colors.

I brought my will to bear and she started to scream. Her eyes snapped open, dazed and wild with pain, and she surged upwards. I fell from the bed and she struggled to take a breath. Cuanne grabbed her arms firmly and spoke soothingly.

Lochra fell back into unconciousness, guided gently back down. Cuanne placed a kiss on her brow and faced me with a furious eye. "Explain."

"I returned some of her lifeforce, so she should be fine on that front." I replied, still a little freaked out from the outburst. "Then I noticed some of my magic in her wounds, so I was trying to drain that."

"Why?" Cuanne frowned for a moment. "If we had no power that might be worth worrying about, but- Wait, no. Could it be?"

Then she started laughing, as if a fucking bird had flown fown to whisper tha funniest joke in her ear. I fought down a flush, feeling self-conscious for the first time in months.

"I thought you might be a hunter from the tribe at first, since you showed up with such great timing." She wiped a tear away, beaming. "Then I thought you might be some kind of Exciser or Exorcist. But you're just an ignorant kid with a lot of luck."

"Kid? I've got a foot-and-a-half on you." I said, pointedly ignoring the damn 'ignorant' description.

"If that." Cuanne patted Lochra's shoulder fondly and then stepped away from the bed. "I doubt you're twenty. Skies above, I doubt you're sixteen; a fresh face in the world of adults."

The flush broke through my guard, and I was left feeling a complicated mix of respect and hatred. I couldn’t think of a way to recover my dignity, either, and the silence was stretching. "I'm almost nineteen. How old are you, little wolf?"

"Seventy-two winters." She flashed her fangs. "Boy."

I nodded, smothing my surprise. Perhaps animal people just lived long lives, which led my thoughts towards my own lifespan. I discarded that easily enough, I figured I'd just live until someone stabbed me and it stuck.

"Alright, Grandma." I started walking away. "I'm exhausted. I'm going back to sleep."