Chapter 12
A Pact of Paw Prints
Amy decides to trust her familiars and her own magic. She makes a silent promise to Baby Blue Bears and Russo Baby Bears to protect their home.
The air in my little cottage felt heavy, like a wet blanket someone had forgotten to wring out. Outside, the village was already starting to dim, not with the gentle fade of twilight, but with a sort of greedy suckling of light, as if the Spooky Moon was already taking tiny sips. I watched from my window, a knot of dread tightening in my stomach. Baby Blue Bears, usually a whirlwind of tiny, yappy energy, was curled up on my lap, his little snores rumbling like a miniature earthquake. Russo Baby Bears, ever the watchful one, sat beside me, his dark eyes fixed on the window, a low growl vibrating in his chest.
I scratched Baby Blue Bears behind his ears, feeling the soft fur. He’d been so quiet lately, so… serious. It was unnerving. These were the same dogs who’d once tried to herd a flock of bewildered sheep into my cauldron, the same dogs who’d once mistook a particularly shiny boulder for a giant, edible biscuit, leading to a rather explosive incident involving my best batch of moonbeam muffins. Now, they were still. And their stillness felt more powerful than any of their usual chaos.
“You guys know, don’t you?” I whispered, my voice barely audible. Russo Baby Bears let out a soft huff, his tail giving a slow, deliberate thump against the wooden floor. He knew. They both knew. They’d been sniffing at the Lunar Bloom petals like they were the most fascinating things in the world, nudging them with their wet noses, their little bodies practically vibrating with an energy I couldn't quite comprehend. And when the Spooky Moon’s shadow had first started to creep across the sky, they’d both let out a unified, ear-splitting howl that had made my teeth ache.
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