“Make a wish.” So he did, hastily, before the spark faded quickly, a silent firecracker sputtering to nothing. A flicker of something at the tail end seemed to fall. A loose spark? No, it was more solid, like an expiring firefly. Had to be quick before it would be lost in the grass and undergrowth, he ran to the edge of the woods, tracking the fall of the tiny thing. Jumping, hands clapping together as if catching a precious bug, “Gotcha!” Smooth and solid, no need to worry about squashing a tiny life, it wasn’t alive at all. Frey’s eyes widened with simultaneous fascination and horror. A tooth.