Patton was taking a walk in the forest, foraging for berries and edible things. It was fall, so it was peak ripeness for almost everything. The corn was plump and golden, the squash and wheat slightly soft and ready for the picking. The boy's mouth started watering as he thought of the pumpkin pie his father would always make to celebrate the harvest. This year was the best yet, too, so their Thanksgiving dinner would probably be very luxurious.

His basket was around half full of nuts and berries at this point. Even though his family could afford to buy them from the store, Patton enjoyed this way better. It was a lot cheaper and easier to do it himself, and it wasn't like there was anything better to do. The other children had basically shunned him, and any games he tried to join ended with him being called a witch and getting punched in the stomach.

He didn't understand why people thought he and his father were witches. Yes, they lived on the edge of town on a hill and kept to themselves mostly, but that was no reason to condemn them! Yes, there was a crow that always followed his father around, but it was harmless and acted perfectly normal, no one could tell the difference! And yes, his father was technically lying when he told everyone that their once a month trips to Medies were visits to relatives in New York who stubbornly refused to move closer to Salem, and lying was bad, but not wanting to die wasn't bad! As his best friend Janus would say, "in that case, lying is self-preservation. You got nothing to worry about, dahling (God, Patton loved his accent.)" Patton's eyes widened as he realized what he had just thought, and he sent a quick prayer up to heaven apologizing for using the Lord's name in vain.

He was so caught up in everything that he almost didn't hear the high-pitched squealing coming from the underbrush to the right of the path. Being an empathetic 12 year old, naturally he ran to see what or who was making that sound. As he ran, Patton was careful to avoid the traps set in the forest. Fall meant that the townsfolk were setting up traps in the woods to catch rabbits and other wild animals for their fur and meat. On one hand, seeing those innocent and adorable creatures slaughtered always made him really sad, but on the other hand, he knew that it was a necessity. And he couldn't deny that roasted rabbit with onions and carrots was delicious.

Speaking of rabbit, Patton finally discovered what was making that spell. It was a young buck rabbit, and its foot was caught in a trap at a very painful angle. Normally, he would feel upset and leave it, but it wasn't going to be put out of its misery anytime soon. And there was just something about that rabbit, that he felt drawn to it and needed to help. Careful not to let the powerful teeth clamp around his hand and trap him too, he separated the metal jaws just enough to lift the rabbit out and put it into his basket, rearranging everything to make sure it wouldn't crush or squish anything. The animal was surprisingly complacent with this, like it had done this before. Or maybe it wasn't an animal at all, judging by the very human-like glint in its eyes. "Hey buddy, I'm going to take you home and then my father will fix you up." He whispered, holding the basket in his arms instead of by the handle. Patton could've sworn that the rabbit nodded, but it was probably a figment of his imagination. Witches didn't get their familiars until they turned 16, and even then it was rare to get one until their early twenties. Careful not to jostle the basket, he carried it home quickly, shivering slightly as the winds started to pick up. He peered down into the basket and saw that the rabbit seemed to be cold. So naturally, he took off his cloak and wrapped it around the animal, making sure it could still breathe. Then he picked the basket up and continued, the cold wind biting him through the fabric of his clothes.

Patton's father Darius was growing worried. His son normally was home by now, especially on a day like this when the weather had changed so quickly. He was about to go looking for him when he saw him jogging up the path, shivering and holding the basket gently in his arms.

"Patton!" He shouted, throwing open the door to their cabin and running down the hill, engulfing him in a hug. He was careful not to crush the basket. "I was so worried! Where-why are your lips blue!? Oh my goodness, we need to get you warm!" Before Patton could say anything, he was being whisked into the house and sat in front of the fire. A warm deer skin was wrapped around him, while the basket was set down besides him. After a couple of minutes of him reveling in the warmth and regaining the feeling in his limbs and lips, he opened his mouth to speak. However, his father beat him in talking.

"What were you doing, going so far when it was so cold out? And why were you not wearing your cloak? You might not have made it home if it was just a few degrees colder!"

"Sorry, but the rabbit looked cold and I just wanted to help it." Patton said guiltily, looking down at his lap.

"That's no excuse-wait, what rabbit?" Patton laughed slightly nervously and uncovered the basket.

"He was hurt and I just wanted to heal him so I was thinking that you could teach me a healing spell." Darius just sighed and shook his head.

"Alright. I'll teach you how to do it. I'll be back in a couple seconds." He got up and left the room, soon returning with a leather book. Opening it to one of the spells, he handed Patton his wand of oak with a starry silver-blue pattern on it. Patton cleared his throat and began to read.

"Sit ossa non conteram eum, et non potest mori, quia potest esse invincibilis, hoc potest esse fere potest fugere. Sana hoc facere melius, hoc in media nocte scribo." As he said the words out loud, the tip of his wand glowed green and a flash of bright light passed through the room. When he could see again, he saw that the rabbit was fully healed.

"Well, there you go, Mr. Rabbit. I guess I'm going to put you outside now-"

'Thank you for healing me, but there is no need to put me outside. You won't want to anyways, you felt the connection between us, right?' Patton's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates and he fell over backwards.

"F-father, the rabbit talked! He said to not throw him outside, because there's a connection between us-"

"Wait, you think the rabbit might be your familiar?"

"Y-yeah, the only thing is, I'm worried that it's too early."

"Well son, there's exceptions to every rule. If you have a connection to the rabbit and you can hear their voice in your head, then you are a very young and lucky witch."

Amos was passing by the witch cabin on his way home. He liked Patton and had enjoyed it when they played, but it was wrong to associate with a devil-worshipping heathen. He glanced over and saw a green flash, causing him to quicken his pace. His father would definitely find that news interesting.