#wolf!logan

Virgil and Patton are witch brothers living out in the woods. The time has come for Patton’s familiar to arrive, but it seems the universe enjoys irony.

Check out more of my writing at @hiddendreamerwriting!

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There was a scratching at the door; not a knocking, but a scratching. Odd. Virgil glanced beneath the table, where the wolf seated there seemed to have perked up as well. 

“Just a second, Patton.” Virgil set the broom he had been modifying down on the table, going over to see what their strange visitor might be. The brotherly witches received all kinds of company, a side effect of being the only healers in the forest. These beings often ranged throughout the races, from fae to mortals, from humanoid to other, and even from canine to-

“Meow!” 

“Oh heck no.” 

Virgil frowned, looming over the cat sat on his doorstep as if he could possibly scare it off. The white puffball stayed put, its tail flicking lazily and smiling up at Virgil as much as a cat could smile.

Virgil knew why it was here, of course. At a certain point, every witch gained their own familiar. Virgil’s own wolf was now faithfully at his side, giving the kitten a low warning growl.

“Easy, Logan.” Virgil eased the wolf, putting his hand out, but he felt like giving a growl of his own.

Virgil knew, logically, that his little brother had just became of age yesterday and had been eagerly waiting for his animal to appear. They had both been waiting for some obvious sign like this. But a cat? Surely the universe would not be so cruel.

“Virgil, what’s-” Patton gasped, his statement cut off as he peered over Virgil’s shoulder. His eyes became wide as saucers, a grin threatening to split his face in half. “Oh~!”

“It’s probably just a stray.” Virgil feebly tried to argue. “Just a normal cat that got lost.”

The cat seemed to raise an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. Spotting Patton, the feline sauntered forwards, purring as he wrapped around Patton’s leg. 

“Oh, what a pretty kitty you are!” Patton squealed, scooping the cat up into his arms. The pair seemed to be radiating energy, clearly bonding as Patton nestled his nose against the soft white fur.

“Patton, you’re allergic.” An exasperated Virgil reminded him, watching Patton already give a quick achoo!

“I just had to sneeze. Not allergies.” Patton argued, wiping the sleeve of his robe onto his nose. “Roman wouldn’t do anything to hurt me like that, would you my little prince?”

(I love this too and I will always take prompts for my witchy bois omg I got so into this again I just speed wrote this all this morning)

Read more of my writing at @hiddendreamerwriting!

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It had happened one late afternoon in mid December. Virgil had just become of age, but it was hard to think of himself as any sort of capable witch when he couldn’t even cast a simple location spell.

Virgil grit his teeth, pressing his mittened hands together to try and form a flame to keep the cold at bay. It felt as though the spell did nothing, and Virgil’s feet still got soaked as he trudged through the snow that was knee high. 

“Great.” Virgil muttered, shoving his hands into his armpits instead, hunching over against the howling wind. “Just great.”

He was going to die out here, wasn’t he? Virgil was such an idiot. Don’t worry Patton, it’s just a bit of juniper. I’ll be back by sundown. And now Patton was going to be worried out of his mind. Virgil was such a terrible brother, he couldn’t even keep them safe through the winter. 

It was Virgil’s fault that they even had to come out into the woods in the first place; the village had not exactly been welcoming of a family of witches when Virgil accidentally spooked off the neighboring farm’s herd of horses. It seemed with every task Virgil took on, his magic always found a way to screw it up. He couldn’t even complete normal mortal tasks, like finding a simple sprig of juniper. Now Virgil was forced to cower home empty handed, if he even managed to make it home at all.

A howling different from the wind made Virgil come to a stuttered hault. He looked up, finding himself standing at the edge of a clearing. Standing in the center was a large wolf, fur grey to the point of being almost blue in the reflection of the snow. 

The creature had already spotted him, looking over Virgil consideringly as if deciding if the witch was a threat. The rest of the world faded away, the wind quieting down as if watching with hushed tones, curious which predator would make the first move.

Virgil internally cursed, eyes darting around the tree line but never leaving the threat in front of him. Wolves always hunted in packs. How many were watching through the shadows? A good witch would have no trouble with creatures of the forest, and maybe even bend the pack to his whims. Frankly, Virgil wouldn’t be surprised if one wolf alone would be enough to overtake him and make an easy meal. 

“I mean no trouble.” Virgil spoke up, hoping the magic edge to his voice would be enough to deter an attack. Yes, fear me, i’m definitely a capable witch who knows what he’s doing.

The wolf seemed unswayed with Virgil’s attempt at intimidation, giving Virgil an unimpressed look as it tilted its head to the side. 

“Please, just-” Virgil cursed himself for showing weakness, shivering as his meager warmth spell continued to fade. “I just want to go home.”

Now, the wolf took a few steps away, turning its head to send Virgil a look. The wolf took another few steps in the opposite direction, looking back at Virgil again. 

Virgil paused, his mind trying to process what was going on. From the body language alone, it was clear that the wolf wanted Virgil to follow, which despite the fact the wolf hadn’t shown any signs of aggression seemed like a terrible idea.

“I- no, I can’t play games.” Virgil huffed, wondering if this wolf was really just a large village dog that had also gotten lost. “I have to go home.” 

The wolf gave a low growl, annoyed, and Virgil jumped. Perhaps it wasn’t a great idea to ignore the wants of what could be a magic and almost-sentient creature that wanted him to follow. Especially when said creature could easily tear out his throat.

So, hesitantly, Virgil stepped forward. He felt exposed in the clearing, and the eerie silence that had befallen the woods was no help. The wolf sat, patient, until Virgil could almost reach out and pet it (provided he wanted to lose his hand). Only then did it stand to lead the way once more, staying just a few paces ahead of Virgil despite the fact it could have easily outrun him through this snow.

Their progress was slow, and Virgil was keenly aware of the sun setting in the distance. Still the wolf made no motion to stop. It led Virgil in a straight line for the most part, every so often raising its nose and sniffing the air to ensure they were still headed towards the wolf’s destination.

“…you’re not a normal wolf, are you?” Virgil commented, beginning to put the pieces together. A shape-shifting fae, perhaps? Or an enchanted creature? Both would explain the apparent sentience, but neither would explain the wolf’s peculiar interest in Virgil. 

The wolf glanced back at Virgil, and Virgil swore he saw an eyebrow raise as if mocking him. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Virgil nodded, still trying to figure out the wolf’s exact origins. He pulled his cloak tighter around himself, the early night air colder than before. “A-are we almost there?”

At the sound of Virgil’s teeth chattering, the wolf’s gaze seemed to turn pitying. He gestured with his nose, a bit forward to the right. Virgil started to follow the wolf in that direction, but this time the animal stayed at his side, seeming very intent on the way Virgil swayed with each step. 

Virgil grimaced, his eyes shut tight as he fumbled to keep moving forwards. His feet felt as though they were made of solid ice. What he wouldn’t give to be back home, safely tucked in front of the fireplace with Patton curled at his side…

As if reading his thoughts, the trees suddenly parted, revealing the hut Virgil now called home. The witch let out a surprised gasp, which manifested itself as a small cloud in the chill atmosphere. 

“How…?” Virgil turned to ask the wolf how it had known, but suddenly the creature was dashing back into the dark cover of the forest. “H-hey! Wait!” 

“Virgil?!” Virgil’s attention was once again torn back to the hut, where a worried Patton was silhouetted in the warm door frame. The younger witch came rushing out, hurrying to help Virgil inside. “Virgil, what happened? You’re freezing.”

Virgil allowed himself to be guided inside, but his mind wandered back to the wolf. Would it be alright, alone in the woods? Of course it would, it was a wolf, if a peculiar one at that. Who ever heard of a lone wolf? A cruel irony, really, reminding Virgil how he himself had been exiled from his ‘pack’- er, village. Was that what happened? Had the wolf taken pity on him simply because Virgil was alone? He hadn’t gotten a chance to thank the creature for its assistance-

Virgil stiffened in the chair by the fire, his muscles tensing as all at once he realized what had happened. He had heard tales of gaining a familiar after he came of age, but Virgil had never considered himself enough of a witch for that to be true. Or when he did indulge that fantasy, Virgil always expected to be paired with a mouse or a toad. Something small and unassuming to prove he wasn’t a threat. 

Instead, out of nowhere, Virgil seemed to have been gifted a magnificent beast. Not gifted, no, that implied that Virgil owned the wolf. He could never own something so powerful, and so tied to nature just like himself. But why a wolf? Virgil was more often a healer than anything else, despite his magic quirks. He was protective, defensive, but not aggressive. At least…he tried not to be, because he didn’t want to be feared. So what did having a wolf familiar say about him?

And more importantly, why did the wolf leave? 

“Virgil?” Patton asked hesitantly, watching the elder witch rise. 

“I think I need to find someone.” Virgil said cryptically, knowing Patton was still watching him as he headed to the door.

“Virgil, it- it can wait until morning-” Patton attempted to argue. 

“I’ll only be a second.” Virgil pulled on his cloak once more. “I promise.” He had also promised to be home by sunset. He ignored the fact he was unsuccessful that time.

“But-!” Patton’s cry of protest was ignored, Virgil opening the door and immediately regretting his decision to go back in the cold. Still he stepped out, shutting the door. A few lazy flakes of snow began to fall down onto his head. 

“Okay, Mr. wolf, where are you?” Virgil asked to himself, stepping forwards a few paces.

He didn’t need to go far. Out of the shadows the wolf emerged again, first its glowing blue eyes that looked ready to scold Virgil for coming back out. As it got closer, Virgil could see something was clutched in its mouth. 

“So…” Virgil glanced down, suddenly hesitant. What if he was wrong about this? What if he just offended the most powerful wolf in the woods by claiming it was somehow Virgil’s servant? 

But then Virgil knelt down, and the wolf nudged its offering in Virgil’s direction. A juniper sprig, just as Virgil had gone searching for in the first place. Virgil took it delicately between his fingers, reaching out a cautious hand to test his claim. The wolf did not recoil, in fact it leaned its head into Virgil’s touch. 

Immediately Virgil felt a new warmth tingling up his arm, and he gasped at the feeling of the bond being formed. For a person with trust issues, the idea of breaking down his mental walls so quickly was almost startling. 

The wolf seemed to react in a similar manner, giving a surprised sniff of its nose and a small shake of its head. Logan. Something in the back of Virgil’s mind told him. This is your familiar, Logan.

(Yes hi I absolutely love requests/prompts for my Witchy Bois family. Also this one went and did a lil’ bit different than flat out heckling because it amused me.)

Read more of my writing at @hiddendreamerwriting!

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The bond between a witch and their familiar was special, in every sense of the definition. A better, greater, or otherwise different bond. A thing designed for a particular purpose. A familiar assisted their witch in all manner of tasks, and possessed sentience far beyond that of a common animal. It had also been said that as this magical bond developed a familiar and their charge could communicate, but then again perhaps witches just enjoyed meowing and howling and cawing to their heart’s content. It was hard to tell when bystanders were unable to understand either end of the conversation.

Despite knowing this, it came as quite a shock to Virgil one day when Logan’s growlings began to take form in actual words.

“We have a problem.” 

Virgil coughed, nearly choking on his morning tea. He looked back down at the wolf, so patiently sitting at Virgil’s bedside. 

“...did you say something?” Virgil asked, wondering if he was just imagining things. It wouldn’t be the first time he put too much saffron in his tea and ended up projecting magic illuminations all over the place.

“Yes, I stated that we have a problem.” Logan repeated himself, and this time Virgil was transfixed watching the way Logan’s lips moved in time with the words echoing in his head.

“Uh...okay.” Virgil slowly nodded, trying to act normal since that’s what Logan was doing. After all, Logan always seemed to know best, even before he could tell Virgil he was being an idiot. He had instead expressed it in other ways, like pulling him by the back of the coat or growling when Virgil reached for the wrong potion ingredients. “So what’s the problem?”

“The cat.” Logan glared, across the room where Roman sat idly grooming himself in Patton’s chair. “He’s mocking me.”

“Who, Roman?” Virgil looked over at the kitten. At his name, the cat looked up, giving Virgil a curious meow. Virgil wasn’t the cat’s biggest fan either, but at the moment he was just… sitting there. Annoyingly getting cat hairs all over Patton’s favorite chair, but why would that bother Logan?

“...wait a second.” Virgil said in realization, glancing again between the cat sat on the chair and Logan sat on the floor. Virgil’s face slid into a sly smirk. “Are you jealous?”

“It’s not jealousy.” Logan scoffed, his nose turned up. “It’s a blatant disregard for house rules!”