#chowl

It was the night of the full moon. 

The veil between worlds was always thinner then. The moon was a door, a wise witch who lived here once whispered to him. Maggie’s egg was laid on the night of a full moon, after all. On a full moon, Howl and Mel had traversed to a strange world full of people with names they knew but faces they did not. There was much enticing magic to do when the moon was round and high in the sky.

Tonight, Howl was going to try to open a tear between worlds. 

Now granted, he had a little tear buried in his petunias, hidden by a concealment spell. That was from Maggie, back when she was a creature of claws and fangs, who could rip through the fabric of time. He wasn’t going to use that. Not directly, though he planned to tap into its magic and siphon some energy.

The thing was, he had to get to a very specific place for this boy with his request. 

Maggie answered the door, leading Howl’s guests to the backyard, where Howl was busy drawing runes on the ground.

“Ah, excellent,” said Howl, looking up. “Come out here, come out here — I’ll need your help in a moment. Actually —” As he spoke, one of the bottles around him floated over to the group of boys walking in. “One of you who isn’t Roxas, take that and stand over there.”