You've been on the road for a few days now. You're questioning your decision to have left. Back home, you only had to worry about the crown taking you away. But they would've just gotten you to the Academy, which while rumored to be overcrowded, strict institutions teaching the proper way to do magic, with a rigorous caste system and severe punishment for people who dont fall in line, maybe the rumors are exaggerated. If you went, at least you'd have a roof over your head and food in your stomach. You wouldn't have to scutter around in the woods, fearing every odd noise as a member of the crown out to get deserters like you, a wild beast looking for a nice meal, or, as you've recently been made aware, a slaver looking to capture runaway magical promises, to either sell them back to the crown or keep for even more nefarious means.

You shake your head. It's no use thinking like that. Shivering in a small grotto, you tighten the humid cloth around your shoulders, waiting for the rain to pass. If only you were like Robin back home. He could turn into a bear, with a thick, warm fur. Alas, all you have are soft animal ears, an expressive tail, and eyes that see much better than they used to. There's also this turmoil within, like an energy just waiting to be released; but no matter what you do, you can't seem to figure out what you need to do to get it out.

You sigh, rubbing your hands together, trying to warm up. The rain patters on the wet earth outside. It's not like you have much better to do. Might as well try again.

You're not sure what you're supposed to do. You're not even sure what it is you can do. You've seen mages cast before; and it looked quite complicated: magic circles and complex incantations. But now that you think about it, the party that promised to free magic, they didn't cast like mages from the academy. The last time you saw them, when they did that show, one of them looked like it just danced with magic, another made symbols, but they didn't look like the rigorous circles from the academy; they were simple, expressive, fluid.

You try to remember the specifics, tough not much comes to mind. Still, you stand up and start pacing around, hesitantly moving your hands like you remember the mage doing. It feels ridiculous, but noone's around to watch. Plus, even if it doesn't work, at least moving around should warm you up a bit. It takes you a bit, but the longer you move, the more right it feels. You close your eyes, and start humming a tune; a simple nursery rhyme. One that reminds you of home and safety. As your feet slide around the rocky floor, you feel a warmth within you growing, slowly spreading through your limbs; the patter of the rain outside seem to harmonize with your song, and for a moment, you forget your fears and worries, and enjoy the present: how light your heart feels and this strange power coursing through your veins.

Your song ends, your choreography naturally ending in a bow. You open your eyes, a bit disoriented; you're surprised you didn't run into any walls, or tripped on the uneven floor. A bit out of breath, you collect yourself, and realize your clothing has dried; and a tear you ripped into it dashing away from a menacing wolf has mended itself. Baffled, you run your fingers over the fabric, where no trace of damage remain.

You dont know how, but you just did magic.