It was late, but Wren couldn’t sleep. And it was that wretched little witch's fault. He had been in her house for three weeks now. In that time, he has become alarmingly attuned to her magic. If he were a stupid creature, he would say that he was settling in. 

But Wren was not a stupid creature. Complacency is the enemy of safety. It’s when you feel safe that you don’t notice the knife coming from behind. 

He was never going to be at the mercy of another witch. Not even one like Mallow. His brain knew not to trust her fully, but his magic did not. 

Witches could use magic in two ways. Witches could access the magic that was all around them. Life magic, nature's magic, the magic that weaves all living things together. It was in the air, the water, in all living things. The planet was full of it.

 They also had their own innate magic. This innate magic that witches were born with was the core difference between them and humans. With this innate magic, they can use and manipulate the magic they find all around them. They can pull magic from the ground for spells or from the plants for potions. Humans could not. The amount of innate magic a witch has helps determine how strong they are.  

 Most witches had a small amount of innate magic that let them feel and manipulate the magic around them. Very few witches have an overflow of their magic. Mallow was one of them. Her innate magic was so vast that it spilled out of her and nurtured the space around her. It filled the forest and benefited every plant and animal it came in contact with. Instead of using her magic to take from nature, she pushes her excess out for nature to use. 

As far as he could see, she didn’t rely on the Earth’s magic, but primarily her own. It was unusual. The witches that he had a history with would do anything to increase their innate magic, including stealing it from him and other magical creatures. He was dragon enough to admit that the amount of magic the little witch had was frightening. 

It was different for magical creatures. Most magical creatures were flush with magic. Their very core was magical. Their bones and blood were fused with it. It meant that the majority couldn’t manipulate or use magic in the way witches did. They were magic. Dragons, elves, and fae especially. It differs among the shifters and the undead. 

This brought him back to the reason he couldn’t sleep. Ever since the witch healed his wings, he could feel her. With her magic unrestrained, it brushed constantly against his own. That’s how he could tell she wasn’t asleep. Or even in the house. 

He wasn’t worried about the witch. If she died, he could probably stay in her house. He hasn’t noticed her talking to other people. He would have some time before anyone noticed she was gone. 

Her familiar was a grizzly bear. She would be fine. 

There was a good chance that the monster of a bear was asleep, and the witch was outside alone. 

She was alone in her own forest where nothing would hurt her. 

Unless there were other humans close by. Humans hurt humans. But she would be able to feel them cross her wards, as she had when he crossed over her boundaries.

The witch was fine. And if she wasn’t, then good riddance. One less witch in the world. He would celebrate her loss. 

A loud howl broke Wren’s thoughts on the witch’s death. He sat up and looked towards his window. The curtains were closed, but it didn't stop the noise from the resounding howls that followed. 

He listened closely. It was wolves, and they sounded close by. He cursed violently and stormed out of his room. 

—----------------------------------------------------

When he made it outside, he expected to find the witch in danger. Instead, he found her dancing. The pasture in front of her house was lit up from the glow of the full moon. The witch was twirling in the grass, wearing a white linen nightgown that fell right above her knees.

The fabric hugged the curves of her body as she danced.

“Witch!” He hissed out. His voice carried over the space. 

She startled and twirled to face him. She was panting. He could see the rapid rise and fall of her chest under the thin material she wore. She must have been out here dancing in the night for a while. The fool. 

Her face was flushed red, either from the cold or exhaustion. She smiled brightly at him. The howls started again from somewhere close in the trees. 

“Stop your witch nonsense and get in the house.” The howling continued. 

The idiotic, little witch grinned bigger. “Are you scared of the wolves?”

He scoffed and spread his wings out. Arching the tops in a move he knew was intimidating. “I fear nothing, pathetic little girl. If you want to be ripped apart by beasts, then so be it. “

She had the nerve to laugh. She tilted her head back, exposing her soft neck, and sent out a ridiculous parody of a wolf's howl. The wolves responded with howls of their own.

The witch laughed. Her face still tilted towards the sky. Then she danced. Wren watched her twirl and laugh with no rhythm or pattern. He felt some deep part of himself relax, just a bit, as the witch frolicked under the full moon.