Good Intentions

Jeremiah had spent the past few days dreading the return of his mother, who had been gone on business. He was sprawled out on the floor of his room because he couldn't quite fit on his bed anymore. The branches and bumps of the more wooden parts of his body snagged at the sheets and his whole body just hung over the edges. He was massive and unwieldy, like some kind of monster.

And that was what he was afraid she would see him as: a monster. "Just a moment, Mother," he called out, trying to keep his voice soft so she might not hear the strange otherworldliness of it.

Lumbering up onto his pointed feet, a task he had found himself better at as he practiced, he grabbed the small silver necklace he had gotten the day after the ritual had failed. His monstrous form dissolved, leaving behind a naked and seemingly normal Jeremiah. His scars and tattoos were still there, which he thought was a bit odd.

He had no time though; Zora was waiting on him. Jeremiah threw on a pair of slacks and a white button up shirt before opening the door. He almost immediately moved to embrace Zora, his cheek pressed against hers. "I missed you, Mother. I trust your work went well?"

He had to tell her, but there was no point in blindsiding her with it.

"Everything was... fine, yes."

Jeremiah fidgeted with the necklace keeping him hidden in a human form, wanting to just rip it off. It felt strange being in a human body and being able to tell that his soul wasn't in his body. He didn't know where it was, he could just feel that it wasn't inside if him.

"Well... something did happen. You see..."

And so, stammering and stumbling over his words, Jeremiah admitted to the ritual. Not the names of the people involved; they didn't need to get in trouble for his mistake. He told his mother why he had done it. She had seemed so sad without Broen. And he was a warlock, and a powerful one at that. He could have given her back the man she loved and helped her be happy again.

When he was done, Jeremiah stood back sheepishly, unable to look Zora in the eye.

"I..." Jeremiah paused, shuffling uncomfortably in his own skin as he tried to think of a way to say what he needed to say. His eyes welled up with tears and he finally managed to stammer out the words he knew would hurt Zora more than anything. "I think I did, Mother."

"Please do not be alarmed. I am not in any kind of pain. And despite what I look like... I promise that I am still myself. But something went wrong, like I was making a call that would not connect yes? And, well..."

Jeremiah slipped the necklace over his head and the change happened like a mirage gradually dissolving under the sun. The teenage boy faded and in his place was a monster. Massive, lumbering, made of fur and bones and wood. The skull of a wolf-like creature in place of a head. A subtle glow from behind the eye sockets that was almost a perfect match to Jeremiah's natural violet eye color.

His ears lowered in shame as he hunched over, crouching on his stilt legs and letting his massive clawed hands prop up his weight. His voice rang out like an echo through a canyon, only much quieter. "I am sorry Mother. I didn't mean to do this to you. I just wanted to help."

Jeremiah's head fell, his ears folding back in a familiar submissive posture that Zora would recognize from wolves and dogs. "I am sorry..." he managed to say again, unsure or unable to say anything else at the moment. His instincts were to get in close, to hug her and try and comfort her... but he reeled back slightly instead. He knew how he looked, how sharp his claws were, and how clumsy he was like this. He couldn't risk hurting her.

But more than that Jeremiah was certain that she would reject him. He had been trying to prepare himself for it, and he completely understood the inevitability of it. But it still hurt in his chest already, where he assumed his heart would sit if he had one in this body. His voice lowered further, almost a haunting whisper as he repeated again, "...I am sorry."

Jeremiah flinched as Zoraida came closer to put her hand on his back. He could barely feel her hand, but he knew it was there and he was scared of what she intended to do at first. But hearing the gentleness in her voice and the concern cutting through her fear eased his tension slightly.

"Not angry but... disappointed, perhaps? Upset? Those feelings are still my fault. I just.. Know how bad it feels to lose someone you love. My Das..." He faltered, the lower jaw of his skull hanging open slightly as he made a noise that was something between a sigh and a sob.