"Once upon a time there was an old couple, and one was hungry and one was lonely. So the wife made them a little man made out of stinky cheese. She made his face out of olives and bacon." Deep breath. "And the cheeseman came alive in the oven and he leaped out when she opened the door, but the smell knocked her on her ass.
"The cheeseman dared them to catch him but since the smell knocked them gagging no one chased him. He ran across a cow, and the cow decided none of its three stomachs could handle it. ...Cows have more than one stomach.
"And then he met a fox, because there's always a fox in stories. And he needed to get to the other side of the river so he asked for a ride and the fox said, sure, in a deeply suspicious sounding voice. I'll take you safe across the river."
"You shouldn't. He learned from that scorpion that stung that frog, you remember that story?" She looks down carefully, smelling her own blood. It's not so bad. And it doesn't smell human; hopefully that helps Godric.
"But they got halfway across and a downdraft made him smell the stink off the cheese, so he gagged and he shook and the cheeseman fell into the water and fell apart."
"Nope, the cheese was so bad, it poisoned the water. And a whole town had to move. And the land became the Sahara desert." She grins. "The end. Wanna hear another?"
"Keep going. It's not too bad." She licks her lips. "Okay so, there was a school called Wayside. It was, uhm, thirteen stories high. But no one knew what happened to the twelfth. And it swayed a lot. Like the tower in Italy.
"The substitute teacher walks in and the kids just know there's something off about her. But kids, they're kids, so they test her. They don't sit down when told. She tells them, do what I fucking say or you'll regret it.
"And Joe ignores her and she wiggles her nose, and pulls her ear, and poof. He turns into a potato."
"So she was a witch," he predicts, grinning at the childish story, loving that she's reading, even though he's not sure how much of this is real and how much of it is made up.
She grins. "Okay so she turns all of the class, except Bobby, who is always asleep in the back. And she gets mad he won't turn, so she goes and she yanks the hood of his jacket back. And Bobby? He's actually three rats in a coat."
"Jump out the window. Monkeys are terrified of rats. But the kids never did get turned back into potatoes. Their parents just came and got 'em and kept them around the kitchen."
He tries to wipe the ink from his fingers but it's already stained. At least for a few days. He stands, walking to the mirror with her and inspecting his work. "I haven't done anything like that in a very long time," he tells her.
She rests her head on his shoulder for a moment. "Well I'm sure your packmate now. This just proves it. Now, what do I do to make sure it stays pretty forever?"
"We heal pretty fast. But we do scar," she has plenty of those. "Most of mine are from when I was human."
The slightly keloided scars on her hands and feet are from being a wolf and running several hundred miles in a blind terror, as well as a mark on her shoulder from being trapped in a cage with starving dogs.
"You should be fine," he assures her. He doesn't know much about it, considering his own experience. "Do you know how this was done?" he asks, touching his collarbone.
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"The cheeseman dared them to catch him but since the smell knocked them gagging no one chased him. He ran across a cow, and the cow decided none of its three stomachs could handle it. ...Cows have more than one stomach.
"And then he met a fox, because there's always a fox in stories. And he needed to get to the other side of the river so he asked for a ride and the fox said, sure, in a deeply suspicious sounding voice. I'll take you safe across the river."
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"I don't trust that fox."
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"But they got halfway across and a downdraft made him smell the stink off the cheese, so he gagged and he shook and the cheeseman fell into the water and fell apart."
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He isn't bothered by the smell of it. It's not new to him and he's under enough control.
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"The substitute teacher walks in and the kids just know there's something off about her. But kids, they're kids, so they test her. They don't sit down when told. She tells them, do what I fucking say or you'll regret it.
"And Joe ignores her and she wiggles her nose, and pulls her ear, and poof. He turns into a potato."
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He wipes away the rest of the blood and leftover ink, inspecting his work. He's precise; it's damn near perfect to what he had drawn.
"Go look."
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"It's beautiful."
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The slightly keloided scars on her hands and feet are from being a wolf and running several hundred miles in a blind terror, as well as a mark on her shoulder from being trapped in a cage with starving dogs.
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