Sadie curled contentedly on the couch next to the fire when a wild-eyed beast pounced, digging needle-sharp claws into her shoulder, and dumped a headless field mouse onto her lap. “I can hunt for myself,” she growled, then raised her voice, “We agreed. No demon familiars.”

A musical voice answered over kitchen clatter, “It’s not a demon. It’s a kitten.”

“Give it time.”

“Everyone loves kittens.”

“Not everyone.”

In response, the fur-ball tapped Sadie’s cheek with claws only half-sheathed. A warning rumble sounded at the back of her throat as Sadie’s face elongated into a muzzle. Her ears lengthened, and her body rippled with the shift into wolf form. The tiny creature clung to the gray fur. Sadie bared her teeth in a snarl. She just couldn’t love it.

The tiny terror swatted, and a bead of blood welled up on Sadie’s nose. She howled, and the kitten tumbled from her shoulder, landing wedged between the wolf’s haunches and the couch cushion. From this defensible position, the feline waged war on Sadie’s tail.

Sadie cocked her head, impressed by its ferocity, then gulped the mouse beside her paw.

“No snacking before dinner,” called the musical voice.

With a huff, Sadie shifted back into human form and plucked the tail from between her teeth. “Witches are the worst.”

The fur-ball murmured in agreement before searching for a new target. Chuckling, Sadie distracted it with the mouse tail and scratched its ears. She couldn’t love it, but maybe she could tolerate it.

Photo by Yuri_B