The undying witch- A Mother

2-{Wolf Smells}

Lucinth was a kindhearted woman
but kind is not obedient.

" What are the four rules, my flame?"

The wind blasts his hair in a net, the gel not doing its job of keeping his troublesome pelt in place.

It seems that being alluring requires an excessive amount of hair, on the lengthy side, which is why: " Always be proud and defend my true self, my physical form and everything that makes me... Me. "

He never likes going on a mission in his incubus form. Too much attention for a truth said to be ugly.

" Be afraid, be very afraid. Run when necessary and stand your ground when you are insulted. "

Frankly, he never understands that particular rule. As his mother, Arson thought that she would have to keep him sheltered from trouble yet she always encouraged him to stab when spiked.

" Mother," A tone meant to sound serious, he called. " This mission will be like any other. The usual chaos. " He reassured.

" The wolf walking on their claws at every jump, the vampires displaying their fangs at any sign of disrespect, and the witches—"

" But you're not like them. " His body froze. The words pang, shutting his mouth and lowering his gaze.

" You are different. You were summoned here not even after growing your first row of teeth. "

The land moves under their naked feet, her afro never budging at the airstream flowing around them.

" I know, Mother. " Mother can be cruel sometimes. " I'm aware. '

" Those unsparing wolfs will never consider you as a member of their pack, vampires will only look at you with repugnance and witches will always find a way to use you. "

The statements itch and the phrases dragged their blade at his skin but he never flinched.

" Choose your clan with the wiseness of the worlds, rub your fur with the loyal kind, and sign contracts with the fitting benefits. "

Lucinth nodded with approval. Behind her clear eyes, she suffered for her son. The guilt ate her up.

She constantly tells herself that one day, those unbearable retrain will become useless... but every time...

" Vikings wolves packs called when you were packing up. " If only... " They asked for another Purifirist to be sent to them for the new witch's first contract in their pack. "

Arson's heart sank, and a million questions raced through his head.

Did he do something wrong?

Was refusing their silly group hug really that bad?

" They said that you made them... Uncomfortable. " He bleeds.

"The death of one of their relative was called upon and criticized. The other linked packs associate your presence and the show of your true form as... inappropriate and respectful. "

In the center of the flowers field, the old trees guard the open meadow leading to the old portal danced.

Honesty was laced in her tone, Arson hated that. The remainder of the title that he never asked for; The pervert outsider.