The wolf was awake and watching her when the bright morning sun forced Chloe’s eyes open. A shiny stare, framed with tufts of fur, set into an unreadable expression. They were laying in a semi-circle-like shape, the wolf on its belly and Chloe on her side. Although she couldn’t see it, the heavy thumping noise had to be coming from a tail. Chloe hoped that meant it was happy. She was. Sleepy, and drained, but happy. Tentative, creeping, she stretched out a hand to the fur just millimetres from her. Even dusted with dirt, it looked too soft to hold back from touching. There was no resistance, her fingers sunk through to skin, covering her with hair to the wrist. Thick, but soft, she let it tickle between her fingers as she ran them along the wolf’s side. Pressed deep enough, she could feel a slow, thudding heart. Unbothered by her exploration, then… Drowsy, Chloe dragged her fingers through in lazy pets, fighting against falling back asleep right there on the ground. The wolf did nothing more than watch her, a very relaxed guard dog.

It abandoned her as soon as she sat up with a loud, yawning stretch, trotting away so fast she made to check her breath. A furry tail swished between the trees and the wolf was gone. Chloe pouted. This wasn’t how it should be, she was sure. They should spend all their time together, growing closer and learning all there is to know about each other. Maybe frolic in the flowers a bit. All those best-friends-forever activities. Sooner rather than later, she would need to choose a name for it, too… maybe it would be best to get the gender checked by a vet first…

The sudden and almost-painful realisation of an unladylike need in her own body gave Chloe an idea as to why the wolf had scampered away as soon as it knew she was awake and well. She hurried to the tiny bathroom, and its composting toilet, inside the cabin.

Refreshed and relieved and followed by the floral scents of her soaps, lotions and potions, Chloe hopped down the front steps. The wolf had not returned. Chloe tried not to let it worry her - perhaps wolf baths took longer; they didn’t have loofahs.

Best to use her alone time to be productive, then she wouldn’t need to interrupt their bonding time with chores later. Chloe set about cleaning up the clutter that had gathered outside the cabin over the eventful night, then organising inside while a fresh stew bubbled over a low flame. When it came to the wolf diet, Chloe knew nothing, but hopefully the self-sufficiency would come as an advantage there. As much as she didn’t like the idea of herself or anyone else eating the flesh of living creatures, there was probably a reason the wolf hadn’t touched the grains and veggies she had left out for it last night. As long as it kept its hunting away from her, she would simply have to accept it.

With the cabin straightened out, most of her fresh ingredients now in her pot, and still no sign of her familiar nearby, Chloe grabbed her basket and headed out to gather.

Only a few minutes into her wander, she was brought to a halt by a noise in the distance. Huffing and panting was approaching and then fading in a regular rhythm. Chloe stilled her entire body, down to her breath, to strain her ears and eyes for whatever was making the strange sounds. As it approached again, a giant furry blob shot through the furthest tree gaps that Chloe could see. A minute or so later, it ran past again, puffing loud breaths that would scare off any prey in the vicinity. Not hunting for breakfast, then, Chloe thought with mild relief. She dropped and raised her spectacles a few times, but the wolf was so far away it was no use. There was nothing to see except auburn fur blurred behind tree trunks.

It sounded distressed, though. And unless it was being chased, it seemed odd to be going for maximum speed round and round in circles. Chloe approached with soft steps, clutching her basket handle to her tummy. Her long dress caught on the occasional branch or root but she was able to kick free relatively quietly. When the wolf came by again, it had gotten further away. Chloe scowled and stomped further forward. Again, on the next rotation the wolf had gained the little extra distance, running a perfect circumference around her.

Chloe froze involuntarily this time. The bond kept magic folk and their familiars connected, and limited in the space they could put between them. A few hundred metres was the maximum estimate, although nothing exact had been accurately measured, and that seemed a fair guess for the fuzzy creature who was as far away as Chloe’s eyes could see. How she could possibly explain this concept to a wolf, she hadn’t a clue. Especially if it got further away with every step she took.

For now, she supposed there was nothing to be done but wait for the wolf to wear itself out and hopefully return to her for water and warmth. In the meantime she would continue her gathering efforts with the help of her herbology text book. She had been too nervous to approach any of the mushrooms in the area, but maybe if she was very careful she would find something edible… The huffs of the wolf quickly faded into the background of Chloe’s meticulous mushroom scouting.

The noon sun urged her to return to the cabin, and her lunch, with uncomfortably warm rays that prickled at Chloe’s bare shoulders, forehead and the round tip of her nose. She loped back through the forest with only a handful of specimens rolling round the bottom of her basket.

Even more than usual, Chloe wished she had rationed her crystals at the start of her Summer holiday. The advice of her mother would put her at ease. Even if she didn't have the answer, her mother always sounded sure that things would work out. Generally, they did, but it wasn't the same without her slow, smooth speech. Old friends of the family joked that Chloe's mother could lull you to sleep with her lilting way of speaking. Chloe believed it was destiny that leant her mother's magical skills towards nocturnal magic, because it was too much of a coincidence for her to have such natural ability to send people to sleep.

The longing for her mother’s voice dissipated in a puff when she reached the top step of the cabin’s entryway, and was met with an open front door. A sickly squeeze took her stomach. Chloe had left only the windows open when she left. With one long and very apprehensive step, she entered.

A person. Human-looking. Naked but for the knitted blanket draped around their waist, Chloe’s knitted blanket, covering their private parts. Pert breasts pointed at her with dark pink nipples. Chloe forced her gaze from them and to the bowl hovering just above, it was also hers, and so was the stew being spooned from it, she was fairly certain. The person eating heartily was unbothered by Chloe’s appearance in the doorway. They watched her with curious brown eyes and raised brows.

Words no longer existed. Chloe wasn’t the best conversationalist, but this was something beyond her social shortcomings. There was no right way in her mind to approach this situation. A stranger had walked into her cabin, naked, covered their butt with her blanket and then taken her lunch. Without a way to express her incredulity politely, she continued to stand in the doorway until the bowl was empty.

“Hello.” The bowl was put aside on the wooden floor.

Chloe had to blink twice, very slowly, before she could reply, “h-hello.”

"I'm Tove." Something was amusing to Tove, her eyes alight with an inside joke as she spoke. "I've never met a witch before, so I'm not sure what to say. Not that you can understand me, but I hope my soft tone of voice is reassuring to you." A mimicry of the same introduction she had given to her wolf. But they had been completely alone, there was no way she could have missed a naked woman standing close enough to hear the words she had spoken to the wounded animal.

“You’re a werewolf,” Chloe whispered, half to herself as the realisation hit her square in the forehead. A real-life, out-of-a-book werewolf.

Tove grinned like this was a compliment. The tips of her teeth were pointed, but it gave her a cheeky and mischievous air rather than that of danger. It warmed the tops of Chloe’s ears, and she couldn’t put her finger on why.

 "And you are magic folk," Tove said simply. "It’s not true that I've never met a witch before, but I’ve truly never been healed by magic.” Her eyes sparkled against the light that streamed in through the open shutters and Chloe was struck by how she bubbled with life. An effortless energy of effervescence radiated from her sun-kissed skin. “Thank you for your help."

"Of course,” Chloe replied with an awkward head bob. For goodness sake, keep your eye line up. “H-happy to help." Her heart was pounding so hard in her throat she thought it might be swelling and closing against the panic, the understanding unfolding inside of her, at what she had done.

Tove’s head tilted, and her choppy hair flopped with it, completely at ease and unaware of Chloe’s silent distress. None the wiser as to how her life had been altered forever. "I have to ask, though, what your reasoning for using speckled blossom in the stew and soot berries in your healing salves is?” The question was asked so casually, as though they had bumped into each other in a store. “We would never, but I guess it's a magic folk recipe?"

Chloe flushed and fought to force words from her mouth. "N-no, I don't think that was intentional." She thought the flowers peppered into her pot were rain blossoms and hadn’t a clue what a soot berry was. The urge to toss her basket of self-diagnosed mushrooms was itching at the skin of her palms. Preferably before Tove could get a glance.

"Oh.” There was a pause before Tove cackled into an easy laugh. “Then I was right to think I was going to die when you applied that salve." She continued to chuckle as though the idea of her death was hilarious. "When I caught the scent of soot berries, I knew it was over for me."

"I'm so sorry." Chloe fiddled with her skirt, filled with shame. "I would never wish you any harm, I really was doing my best in the moment.”

Tove waved her off good-naturedly. “If you wished me harm, you wouldn’t have healed me with your magic.” There was a flash of memory that passed over her expression. “The pain relief potion would have been appreciated, though.”

Chloe apologised, again. “I'm self-taught when it comes to herbs,” she admitted. “In the cities we buy our ingredients in packets that tell you what they are, where they were collected from, and sometimes a handy tea recipe included." Her nervous fingers switched to picking at the buds in her braid. "I want to learn to identify them myself, though, and make potions with plants I gather myself like a true nature witch."

"Well, for the future, speckled blossom is safe to consume but there's no reason why you would. It didn’t add anything but an after-taste to your stew. And soot berries are not safe to be putting anywhere it could get inside you."

Chloe thanked her for the guidance, adding a sincere closed-eyed nod afterwards and clasping her fingers tightly to keep from fidgeting any further. She was glad for the mild conversation, anything to keep them further from the moment when she had to explain herself.

"Do you mind me asking what kind of witch would you be if not a nature witch?"

Tove was sprawled on the floor, apparently perfectly comfortable, and watching her with a light curiosity. It was clear she had no intention to hurry out with her tail between her legs, the way Chloe wished she could. It made Chloe feel odd for standing over her. She sunk down and curled her legs to the side.

"Well, my family are mostly nocturnal or cosmic magic folk."

With an easy grin, Tove asked, "and what does that mean?" She let her weight fall back to her palms, placed just a little behind her. It pushed her chest even further out, and Chloe had to fight twice as hard not to break eye contact.

"Nocturnal magic is connected to the night, and particularly the moon and its cycles. Cosmic is also connected to night time but revolves around stars and constellations."

"And those are three of how many magic folk types?"

"Seven, but not everyone follows a particular divinity." Tove seemed content with the answer, so Chloe stole the chance to ask her own question. She only knew of werewolves from books and word of mouth, this was a serious learning opportunity. And who knew if the wolf would be this open once she knew what Chloe had done. "Do werewolves have different variations? Like snow wolves?"

Tove laughed lightly. "Maybe?" She shook her head as she thought about it. "You don't tend to find us outside of forests and woodlands. I can't imagine the fae are very open to sharing the snowy regions with us. I suppose it's possible, though. I have seen different wolf types, but not different werewolves. Just because I haven't seen it doesn't mean they do not exist. If there are snow wolves, why not snow werewolves?"

"I don't think magic folk are as open to the idea of not knowing anything for certain," Chloe divulged with her own laugh. It was creaky and awkward, but Tove didn’t seem to notice. "If you tried to convince one of us that there was an eighth magic variant, we would need a ten thousand word essay, extensive research proven in front of your fellow academics and then a few decades of debate on the subject."

"There is nothing you believe in just because it's fun?"

Chloe blinked slowly. "What do you mean?"

Tove leant forward, sharing a secret with a half-grin. "I like to believe that there are werebirds that live at the tops of trees because my uncle once saw a bird bigger than a man fly overhead."

Chloe cackled. "That's... insane!" She covered her mouth quickly, fearing she may have caused offence.

"It's a bit of fun!" Tove laughed, too. "I like to imagine them whenever I come across an enormous feather - trying to squeeze themselves into the trunks like owls do."

Chloe couldn't think of anything to say in response except, "but... it's not true."

"There is plenty that you don't know, it doesn't come into existence solely when magic folk discover it."

"You're not wrong," Chloe agreed, musing in tone.

"I hope you can tell me the answer to my trouble, though, oh wise, magical one." Her eyebrows bounced on each of the last four words.

"Trouble?"

"I seem to be stuck here, in this area. Ever since you performed your healing spell on me, I cannot leave."