As much as he loved her and appreciated her help, whenever Miroslav spent too much time in the presence of his adopted mother, Ebony Pardus, he felt his skin begin to crawl and his paranoia mount. It wasn't that she wasn't kind or protective or understanding; it wasn't that she was a feline, which bothered some of his fellow werewolves (which made no sense at all; cats were just cats. Squirrels, on the other hand...). No, the problem, when it got right down to it, was magic.Wandering in the woods outside the shop, Miroslav kept a watch for any movement, his ears flicked, ready to receive sound; he breathed with his nose to pull in all the scents he could. Somewhere, out in the woods, his other "family" was waiting for him; his master, his brother Ludolf, and the dragon. It was because of them that he feared his adopted mother at times, and that made him hate them even more than ever before.
Was that a sound in the undergrowth? What--or who--was there? The hackles rising on his back, Miroslav looked around, scenting the air for anyone who might be intruding on his solitude.
