Pure Silver

Murph cradled a chunky pottery mug that was exactly the right size for his hands. Far from usual. As was the blend of tea the healer served.

He breathed deeply, losing himself in the mingled scents as if trying to divine the recipe. But also to distract himself from Levity, who was … well, he had no idea what she was doing.

She and the healer were talking their way through the process, though. Sigils and wards. Illusions for blending in. Things he'd need.

All of which had to be scuttled or removed or banished or something so he could see what Levity really looked like.

The jargon wasn't completely incomprehensible. He had enough context to get the gist.

And he knew whatever they were doing was working, because after some dexterous flourishes, Levity's eyes suddenly turned to silver.

Pure and piercing, split by slender pupils.

They weren't the eyes he knew.

They made Levity a stranger.

"Oh, Murph. You look heartbroken."

So did she.

He lowered his gaze.

The next time he looked up, Levity had the ears of an elf, and the mare was kneeling behind her, working at something up under her hemline. Then with a slow shimmy and swish, Levity brough her tail out of hiding. Long and luxuriant. Her fur was the same glossy black as her hair.

Murph was on his feet before he realized, gaze fixed on living, swaying, visible proof that he wasn't alone in his weirdness. Setting aside his tea, he reached out.

The healer raised a cautioning hand. "You cannot go around petting wolves. They might take it personally."

Just as quickly, Levity said, "Go ahead, Murph. Reassure yourself."

"If this is bad manners, I'm sorry. But … may I really?"

Her tail wafted back and forth, and her smile showed a hint of fang. "Get on in here. Grab hold."

Tentative fingers brushed warm fur. "It's real," he whispered.

"Very real."

"I've been afraid to touch mine since I found it. That would have made it … as real as this."

A soft rumble began, emanating from Levity. He recognized it as the soothing sound she'd made earlier. Dropping to his knees put his own tail in an uncomfortable bind, but he still scooted closer in order to run both hands down the whole length of her tail. Once. Twice. Then over and again. Petting with a surreal sort of reverence.

And she let him.

Eventually, she turned and knelt, her dress rustling gold and her eyes silver-soft. Levity asked, "Are you afraid?"

"Of wolves in a general sense? I have the good sense to keep my distance. But of your variety? Less terrified than I might have been if you were a stranger." He reached for her again, tentatively brushing fingertips over her ear. "I am afraid, though. Mostly of change. I don't fancy changes that cannot be planned for. And this?" He shook his head. "What am I going to do, Levity? This changes everything. Fundamentally. Irrevocably."

"Yeah. It does. It really does."

He couldn't understand why she looked so sad in that moment, especially when she edged into closeness and contact, her cheek pressed to his.

"I'm being selfish, but I'm so glad this happened, Murph. You're giving me all kinds of courage." Her voice was husky in his ear. "I don't feel so alone now."

Which probably should have been his line.

But before he could think what to say, a diva in scarlet fringe burst in and cocked a hip. Her nostrils flared, and her eyes narrowed.

And with the silky sweetness for which Divinity Highstreet was famous, she arched her brows and said, "Hello, Kindred."