Moving away from the topic of her mother's ring, Katja questioned Wolf about the unexpected lunch invitation, and Wolf admitted he'd told Tante Winola about her birthday; in fact, the main reason he'd stayed behind that morning had been to write a note informing the librarian of the importance of the day.

Apparently he'd written the note while human, then carried it in his mouth in wolf-form until he'd found a Helferin, who had accepted it without question and successfully delivered it. After hearing the whole story, Katja had to admit he'd been quite clever.

Over a lunch of delicious apple and fig spread sandwiches in Tante Winola's cozy living space, Katja showed the witches her mother's ring.

"I wish Tante Maedra and Tante Gerta knew more about it," she said. "When Wolf first saw it, he said he smelled the Waldkonig's magic on it."

Tante Winola's eyes widened, and she glanced fearfully at Wolf.

"How do you know it's his magic?" she asked hoarsely, which surprised Katja. She'd never seen anything upset the librarian before.

Then again, both she and Tante Hedda had family members who had actually experienced the Great Purge firsthand, which made it far more real than simply reading a stranger's account in a book.

"I don't know about the Black Forest now," Wolf said carefully, "but back when I lived there, the Waldkonig wasn't as much feared as he was respected. I know he did terrible things, both to witches and Nichts," he added quickly, "I'm just trying to say things were different, before I went into the necklace.

"One of the benefits of being a shapeshifter is having an advanced sense of smell, and when I roamed the forest as a wolf, I came to understand the different odors. The Waldkonig's magic has a scent all its own."

"That's extraordinary," marveled Tante Hedda, helping herself to another sandwich. "Could you tell if he's still alive if you were to go into the Schwarzwald now?"

Wolf shrugged. "I'm not sure, but it really doesn't matter. I can't go far from the necklace, and Katja can't enter the forest."

"I'd like to learn more about the Waldkonig, though," said Katja. "I've never heard anything about him being able to shape metal, but I also don't doubt Wolf's nose. Plus, now he's a connection to my mother, at least distantly..." her voice trailed off, and she swallowed down the words she really wanted to say: And even reading about someone who might have made something she ultimately came to own makes me feel closer to her.

Tante Winola nodded understandingly. "Of course. Why don't you and Wolf go outside and enjoy the rest of this lovely day, and I'll see what I can find in the library? I'll send whatever seems promising to your room."

A look out the window in the far back of the apartment assured Katja it was indeed a lovely day, the always exuberant spring having given way to summer. The sky was a bright, cheerful blue, and being outdoors did sound nice.

"I think a walk sounds fantastic!" Wolf exclaimed. "We could even go visit one of the nearby villages!"

"That could be nice," agreed Katja. She'd never been brave enough to visit the nearest village by herself, but going with Wolf would make it much more enjoyable.

She helped Tante Winola carry the lunch dishes into her small kitchen and returned to find Wolf and Tante Hedda deep in conversation about something. Before she could join in, though, Wolf quickly transformed into wolf-form, his tail swishing excitedly behind him.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"Let's go," replied Katja, excitement and nervousness mixing in her stomach.

After hugging her aunts goodbye and thanking them for the birthday lunch, she and Wolf made their way through the castle, across the courtyard, and out into the warm afternoon sunlight.

"What else did you do on your birthday?" she asked Wolf once they were far enough from the castle so as not to be overheard, thinking back to how important birthdays had been in his family.

"We talked about our goals for the next year," he said. "When my mother first had us do it, I hated it and didn't see the point. But as I got older, it became something I looked forward to, and it even became fun to set goals and then look back over what I'd accomplished."

He looked up at Katja. "What are your goals for the next year?"

"I'm not sure," she admitted. "I've always felt so conflicted about being part of the Hexen and living here...I've never felt like I belong, and I just want to find a place where I fit in, where I can be myself."

She shrugged. "But I also know from experience how people will react to me, and so sometimes—most of the time—it seems better to stay where I'm at least familiar with how things work."

"Where would you go, if you could?" asked Wolf.

Katja very nearly replied, The Schwarzwald, but bit her bottom lip to stop herself. "I've always wanted to visit the ocean," she said instead.

"Me, too," agreed Wolf. "And the desert. I read a book once about a nomad who lived in a tent in the desert with a herd of camels. He always knew where to find water or when the rains were coming and it was time to seek higher ground. I wish...it always seemed nice, being able to anticipate what was coming, so you could take care of your family."

It didn't take long walking along the Neckar River before they reached the outskirts of the nearest village, and after ensuring they were alone, Katja watched as Wolf disappeared into a copse of trees. Wrapping her arms around herself, she shifted her weight from one foot to another as she waited, letting out a relieved sigh when he emerged a moment later in human-form.

A wide grin spread across his face, and excitement radiated from him as he hurried onto the path beside her. Back at the castle, Katja was always so afraid of his human identity being discovered, it was slightly unnerving to see him walking about so freely, but it was also an enormous relief to be able to talk to him like this.

The village wasn't gated, so they weren't stopped upon entering and were free to head in whatever direction they wished.

"Where should we start?" asked Wolf, eagerly turning his head from side to side, as if he was afraid of missing something and needed to take everything in.

"I'm not sure," replied Katja, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the unfamiliar hustle and bustle of the village. She'd already had a couple of people look curiously at her scar; perhaps this hadn't been such a good idea after all.

Wolf must have heard the worry in her voice because he turned towards her, reached out, and took her hand, interlacing his fingers through hers.

Katja almost missed what he said, she was so busy staring at their intertwined fingers.

"Nothing bad is going to happen," Wolf said. "I'm right here with you. You have just as much right to be here as anyone else."

Katja drew in a shaky breath but somehow managed to nod, wondering how long Wolf was going to keep holding her hand even as she also wondered just how long she wanted him to keep holding it.

Giving her hand a firm squeeze, Wolf started walking, tugging her towards a cart selling small bags of roasted nuts.

"Let's start here," he suggested, "and work our way down the street."

Katja was about to say she hadn't brought any money, when Wolf reached into a pocket and pulled out a small bag. Tossing it into the air before easily catching it, he smiled at her.

"Tante Hedda gave me this before we left, as a birthday present for you," he explained. "She and Tante Winola wanted to make sure you had a good time."

"That was so nice of them!" replied Katja, caught off-guard by the unexpected gesture, although her attention was soon pulled elsewhere when Wolf let go of her hand to extract coins from the bag.

He purchased a bag of nuts for her and since she was the only one eating them, it required the use of both hands—one to hold the bag, the other to take out the nuts—making it impossible to see if Wolf might take her hand again.

Of course, he'd only taken it in the first place as any friend would; Katja had seen countless girls do it to one another the castle. It just felt different because her friend happened to be a boy, but there had been nothing more to it than his desire to offer comfort, for which she was extremely grateful.

Katja and Wolf took their time walking down the main avenue, winding their way between the vendors' carts and stalls, admiring handmade hats and shoes, tasting local honey and bread, and sniffing scented pieces of soap. Katja stopped in front of the window of a jewelry store, but Wolf took her elbow and steered her elsewhere.

"There's nothing in there as incredible as what you make," he said, and Katja ducked her head as she murmured her thanks.

Watching Wolf make small talk with vendors and navigate around the village, Katja felt as if she was seeing him in an entirely new light—she'd never seen him so confident before. If this was how he typically was, it must make being trapped in the castle that much worse, and for the life of her she couldn't understand why he was so reticent to discuss breaking the shapeshifter spell.

But she'd promised not to bring it up again, so she swallowed her words and instead focused on watching Wolf enjoy himself.

In one shop, Katja admired a stained glass and lead lampshade, which Wolf immediately offered to purchase, but she quickly declined, not wanting to be frivolous with the funds they'd been given, much to Wolf's frustration.

"Your aunts told me to buy you something nice while we're here," he complained. "If you don't pick something out, I'll have to choose for you, and since I only ever shopped for my parents and my sisters, it'll likely be a terrible choice, and then you'll be forced to pretend you love it when you really don't."

"If that's the case, then I know exactly what I want to get," replied Katja. "But it's not in this store."

"Where is it?" asked Wolf.

"Can we find a bookstore?" Not wanting Wolf to think she was being ridiculous, she added, "I'm not comfortable buying something just for myself. But if we buy a book, we can share it, and we can both enjoy it. That feels better to me."

Wolf responded by grabbing her hand and guiding her outside, where he asked for directions to the nearest bookstore.

"I'll never say no to a new book," he assured her as they stepped inside a small but well-lit shop filled with books of every shape and size.

Katja soon lost track of time as they browsed the shop offerings, talking about the books they'd both read before and offering summaries of ones the other hadn't heard of. Eventually they agreed on a book of fables and short stories told from the perspective of various animals, and Katja was so happy to accept the wrapped package from the bookseller, she didn't even notice whether or not the woman stared at her scar.

As they continued on through the village, though, she did notice the occasional glance Wolf received from a passing girl. One was so bold as to even smile at him. Katja was surprised he didn't appear to notice the attention, but perhaps he was simply too excited over being out and about in human-form.

Also, Wolf clearly hadn't grown up trying to avoid drawing attention to himself, as she had, and there was a huge difference between receiving a kind smile and receiving a rude stare.

Eventually, they reached the end of the village, and the lengthening afternoon shadows indicated it was time to return to the castle, so they made their way back, with Wolf stopping in the same secluded spot to transform into wolf-form.

Something had been tickling the back of Katja's mind for a while now, and if she didn't ask Wolf a question she'd long wondered about, it was likely she never would. Taking a deep breath as Wolf trotted back onto the dirt road, she asked, "Why do you never mention my scars? Especially the one on my face?"

She avoided looking at Wolf as the words left her mouth, instead focusing on her mother's ring, twisting it around her finger.

Wolf stopped in front of her, blocking her path and forcing her to meet his unwavering, amber gaze. "Because they're not important to me."

"Why not?" asked Katja. "How can they not be important to you? They're the only thing everyone else notices about me."

Wolf shook his head. "That's because others don't know you the way I do. Certainly, the one on your face is noticeable if someone is seeing it for the first time, but I didn't even need to spend half an hour with you to realize it's the least noteworthy thing about you."

Katja was dumbfounded. Perhaps if she'd had a close friend over the years, she would have been better prepared for Wolf's explanation, but she'd learned to see herself only as others saw her, a caricature of a real person, defined in broad strokes that made her easy to categorize.

"What else is there?" she whispered, her throat tightening. "If you don't see me the same as everyone else, what do you see when you look at me?"

"I see the most gifted metallurgist of a generation," replied Wolf. "I see someone who continues to have a kind heart, even though circumstances have tried to destroy it. I see someone who is stronger than she knows and never gives herself enough credit, someone who never asks for help and finds a way to bring beauty to a harsh and unforgiving world."

He sat down on his haunches. "I see you, and you are far too interesting, too complex, too incredible to categorize as just one thing. Your scar is part of you, yes, but it doesn't define you, not in my eyes. To me, your scar is the same as you having brown hair or grey eyes or that sometimes you have nightmares and you love pastries and you prefer winter over any other season."

Katja's mouth went dry, which was odd because her palms felt sweaty. Yes, she and Wolf had been inseparable companions for months now, but how did he know so much about her?

As if anticipating her question, Wolf shrugged a black-furred shoulder. "Anyone else could know those things, too, if they just spent some time with you."

"The people who have lived with me my entire life don't know me even a fraction as well as you do," Katja said softly.

"Then they aren't paying attention, and it's their loss," Wolf replied firmly.

Katja didn't know what to say so she smiled shyly at him, and he wagged his tail before bumping her knee with his head, and they continued along the river, the conversation turning to less consequential things until they reached the bedroom.

As promised, Tante Winola had sent over some books, neatly arranged into a stack Katja carried inside and placed on her bed.

As soon as the door closed, Wolf transformed back into human-form. "I can't think of a better way to end a birthday than by reading," he said happily.

Katja glanced around the room, wishing for the first time she had a table large enough for two, rather than a desk intended for one.

Wolf had apparently already given this some thought, though, and he hurried behind the wooden screen and reemerged carrying his mattress. Katja watched as he placed it in front of the small fireplace before he turned and smiled at her.

"I know it's warm out," he said, "but is it possible to conjure flames that doesn't produce heat? There's something so nice about reading in front of a crackling fire!"

Katja nodded and held her hand towards the grate, conjuring the dancing flames of a well-fed fire without any of the usual heat.

"That's perfect," smiled Wolf, grabbing a pile of books from Katja's bed before lowering himself into a comfortable position on the mattress.

Katja swallowed, uncertain about sitting beside Wolf on his bed, although she couldn't say what prompted the feeling. Had he not been in his human-form, she wouldn't have given sitting beside him a second thought.

Some things were simply different when he was a human, but then again, if he didn't find it awkward to share his bed with her, she certainly didn't want to act as if it was a big deal.

Katja carried the rest of the books over to the mattress, placing them in between Wolf and herself. Wolf was already tracing his fingers over the cover of one, the title of which read in large gold letters, Historical Accounts of the Schwarzwald. A far-away look spread over his face, and his eyes became sad.

Katja very nearly groaned out loud at her own stupidity.

"I didn't even think about how difficult this might be for you," she grimaced, "reading about where you used to live. I'm fine to read through things on my own, if you want to read the new book we bought or go to bed or...do something else."

"No," Wolf shook his head, although his eyes stayed fastened on the book for a few seconds longer before they turned to meet hers. "I mean, yes, it's difficult, thank you for understanding, but I don't want to leave. I just needed a minute."

"Please promise me you'll say something if it gets to be too much," urged Katja. "Selfishly, I'd love your help, but not at the expense of forcing you to endure something upsetting."

"You're not forcing me to do anything," assured Wolf. "I want to be helpful. And besides," he leaned over and bumped his shoulder against hers, "you wouldn't even know the Waldkonig was involved with that ring if it wasn't for me. Who knows what else you might miss if I'm not around to point things out?"

Katja laughed and agreed he had a good point, but part of her mind was still thinking about the way Wolf had bumped her shoulder. She'd never had a boy do that before, even though it was really no different from how Wolf bumped his head against her leg when he was in wolf-form.

Somehow, though, it felt different, although she couldn't explain why, leading her to quickly direct her attention to the book in front of her as the fire crackled cheerfully in the background.

A while later, Katja's stomach rumbled, and she glanced at Wolf.

"Normally I'd eat down in the Essen Hall, but since it's my birthday, I'm sure no one would mind if I had dinner sent up."

Summoning a Helferin, she sent a note to the kitchen, and the Helferin promptly returned carrying a heavy tray laden with dinner, which almost felt like a picnic, eating on a mattress in front of a fireplace in her bedroom.

After setting the empty tray outside and securing the door, Katja lost herself in the books and didn't realize how much time had passed until Wolf stretched his arms over his head and rolled his neck from one side to the other.

"Should we compare what we've learned?" he suggested, and Katja nodded, looking back over the extensive notes she'd made while reading.

"You go first," said Wolf, extending his long legs towards the fire and leaning back on his palms. "I'll jump in with what I know. I didn't learn much from these," he said, giving the nearest book a pat, as if he didn't want to hurt its feelings, "but a lot of my knowledge comes from stories I was told growing up, or things I learned living in the forest."

"A lot of what I read sounds more like myth than fact," said Katja, "but I'm sure we can piece something together."

Looking back over her notes, she took a breath, then began.

"There's no clear timeline of when the Schwarzwald first originated. For all anyone knows, it's always existed. And for as long as there's been a Black Forest, there's been a forest guardian—the Waldkonig, or Forest King.

"It seems every forest is different as far as who their guardian is, and I couldn't find anything about what happens if a forest guardian dies...I don't know if another magical being takes their place, or if it's somehow the same guardian across all of time." She looked at Wolf. "Do you have any idea?"

He shook his head. "I've never heard conclusively one way or the other. I would assume the Forest King is immortal and it's the same being caring for the forest over the centuries, but I don't know that for a fact."

Katja nodded, returning to her notes.

"The Forest King isn't so much a ruler of the forest as he is a caretaker. He's supposed to oversee the health of everything that lives in the forest—although I don't think that extends to people—and his magic is powerful enough to heal sickness or rot and ensure plenty of clean water, food, and shelter for animals.

"If I was thinking in terms of affinities, I'd say he sounds like a botanist, someone with an affinity for plants and making things grow. I didn't find anything about him being able to shape metal using his magic, but just because it's not written down doesn't mean it didn't happen."

She reached up and fingered the wolf pendant as she continued. "You might be right about the Waldkonig being immortal...most of what I read basically said he can't be wounded or harmed using anything created by humans. One text had a footnote that said, and I quote, 'The Waldkonig is no fae, terrified of the effects of iron, for no metal of the earth can harm him.'"

She looked at Wolf. "If weapons aren't effective against him, perhaps spells are? But you'd probably have to be as ancient as he is to wield the kind of power it would take match him in a fight."

Wolf grinned. "Perhaps we can go visit another forest and find out if they have a guardian. If they do, maybe we can hire them to come see if the Waldkonig still exists."

"It's really too bad we can't just go into the Schwarzwald ourselves," grumbled Katja. "I always seem to end up with more questions than answers, and sometimes I want to just take matters into my own hands and make sense of them."

Wolf gave a sympathetic nod, and Katja ventured a question she hoped didn't sound too ridiculous. "If it really is the Waldkonig's magic on my mother's ring...do you think the forest could somehow sense it?"

Wolf considered that. "I don't know," he finally admitted. "Tell me what you're thinking."

"It's just a theory," cautioned Katja, "but it's at least conceivable the Waldkonig could sense his own magic. Could that be why the forest is expanding in this direction? And why we saw the vine on the bridge? Perhaps he's trying to get his ring back."

"It's definitely conceivable," agreed Wolf, "although I feel like there must be faster ways to act if his only concern is getting the ring back. I'm not saying that's not part of it, just that it's also possible there's more going on and the ring is only a piece of the story, not his ultimate goal."

"That makes sense," agreed Katja, even though she could tell she was trying to force herself to accept Wolf's explanation, as something about it didn't ring true to her.

Perhaps she simply didn't want it to ring true...perhaps, deep down, she wanted there to be a mystery involving her mother and the Forest King, a mystery that somehow made her mother, and by extension, herself, important, or at the very least, interesting.

It seemed silly and ridiculously self-centered to believe the ancient, powerful guardian of a timeless forest would be concerned with a piece of jewelry her mother had been wearing when she died, but Katja couldn't help considering it, nonetheless.

She and Wolf discussed other things they'd read without coming to any solid conclusions, and Wolf eventually retrieved a pillow, which he used to prop up his head while holding a book in front of him. Katja lost herself in a fascinating chapter about the plants one intrepid explorer had cataloged in the Schwarzwald roughly one hundred years ago, then was startled by a soft snore next to her.

Looking up from the book, she was surprised to see Wolf sleeping, the book he'd been reading laid across his chest. She'd never seen him sleep in her bedroom before...usually he was still awake and either reading or writing when she went to bed.

She knew he slept in wolf-form sometimes, as she'd seen his paws twitch when he'd been lying on the floor of her workspace, making her wonder what he might be dreaming about, but he seemed to require so little sleep, she'd never seen him sleeping in human-form.

Reaching over, she gently removed the book from his chest, relieved when he didn't wake up, and she whispered the spell to quench the fire before dimming the overhead light to little more than a glint of orange above the bed.

Deciding not to bother with putting on her sleeping clothes, Katja simply removed her shoes, then climbed into bed. Touching the wolf necklace, she smiled as she closed her eyes.

"Goodnight, Wolf," she whispered to the meteorite, her eyelids heavy with impending sleep.

Just before she drifted off to slumber, she heard Wolf reply, "Goodnight, Katja. Pleasant dreams," and she smiled, thinking of all the times she'd imagined the little wolf pendant talking back to her and wishing her a good night in return.

This was so much nicer.

(Artwork by isakarakus from Pixabay)