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Title: The Wild One OR In which an agreement is reached.
Comment to Meridae here please
This might just be in a new story arc in this 'verse. *am proud* She piggy-backed off my Chance Fortunate. *grins*
"Care--!"
The warning came too late, and although Evan snatched his hand back as quickly as possibly, he still came away with a set of four painful, bleeding and quite deep gouge marks on the back of his hand just beyond his knuckles. He swore quietly - so as not to upset on incite the culprit further - and looked up at the 'foster mother' doubtfully as he nursed the insult to his hand.
"Are you *sure* this is a familiar? He seems quite . . . wild."
Magister Warne sighed. "Yes, he's definitely a familiar. Just a traumatised one. He was raised by a non-familiar feline mother, and his first contact with humans was . . . ummm . . . abusive, to say the least."
"Oh." Evan commented in a small voice, eyeing the spitting, hissing, snarling tangle of fur huddled at the back of the enclosed wicker work basket with a little more sympathy.
"You're under no obligation, Evan. Not everyone has the time or emotional strength to take on a stray." The Magister's voice was gentle and warm, letting Evan know that it was truly okay to go back to his safe little university world and wait for the perfect familiar to come along. Yes, familiars were rare and highly sort after, but he was powerful, and financially comfortable, and not bad looking if he did say so himself . . . . he had a good chance of attracting a powerful, well educated and well adjusted familiar of his own. He didn't need to accept a stray.
"His name is Phinx. It's all he will tell us."
"Phinx . . . " Evan murmured, his gaze still fastened on the frightened feline. Cautiously, he let his hand creep back into the basket, resting it just out of paw swiping range.
They stayed there for long moment, nascent wizard and feral familiar, frozen, at an impasse of mutual fear.
Then . . . a slight movement . . . a brief rub of a cheek against the knuckle nearest to the furred, triangular face, and a brief swipe of a rough tongue over a bloodied mark, before the frightened familiar retreated to the rear of the basket again.
A warm feeling of joy began bubbling up in Evan's heart.
He looked up at the Magister, his eyes wide in wonder. "When can I take him home?"
Comment to Meridae here please
This might just be in a new story arc in this 'verse. *am proud* She piggy-backed off my Chance Fortunate. *grins*
"Care--!"
The warning came too late, and although Evan snatched his hand back as quickly as possibly, he still came away with a set of four painful, bleeding and quite deep gouge marks on the back of his hand just beyond his knuckles. He swore quietly - so as not to upset on incite the culprit further - and looked up at the 'foster mother' doubtfully as he nursed the insult to his hand.
"Are you *sure* this is a familiar? He seems quite . . . wild."
Magister Warne sighed. "Yes, he's definitely a familiar. Just a traumatised one. He was raised by a non-familiar feline mother, and his first contact with humans was . . . ummm . . . abusive, to say the least."
"Oh." Evan commented in a small voice, eyeing the spitting, hissing, snarling tangle of fur huddled at the back of the enclosed wicker work basket with a little more sympathy.
"You're under no obligation, Evan. Not everyone has the time or emotional strength to take on a stray." The Magister's voice was gentle and warm, letting Evan know that it was truly okay to go back to his safe little university world and wait for the perfect familiar to come along. Yes, familiars were rare and highly sort after, but he was powerful, and financially comfortable, and not bad looking if he did say so himself . . . . he had a good chance of attracting a powerful, well educated and well adjusted familiar of his own. He didn't need to accept a stray.
"His name is Phinx. It's all he will tell us."
"Phinx . . . " Evan murmured, his gaze still fastened on the frightened feline. Cautiously, he let his hand creep back into the basket, resting it just out of paw swiping range.
They stayed there for long moment, nascent wizard and feral familiar, frozen, at an impasse of mutual fear.
Then . . . a slight movement . . . a brief rub of a cheek against the knuckle nearest to the furred, triangular face, and a brief swipe of a rough tongue over a bloodied mark, before the frightened familiar retreated to the rear of the basket again.
A warm feeling of joy began bubbling up in Evan's heart.
He looked up at the Magister, his eyes wide in wonder. "When can I take him home?"
