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Eyes closed, ears filled with the beating of her own heart, Mack drew in a deep breath, and as she released it she sent out a wave of magic. Black particles danced in the air, she could feel every single one, like they were all an extension of herself. She let them circle her, wisps of black smoke following their trail. She breathed steadily as her eyes opened, the tiny particles of energy transformed into crows, each one silent on the wave of the breeze, gliding around each other. A purple butterfly flew up to one of her crows and she stuttered as she looked around. Stiles was standing on the back porch, eyes shimmering with a purple tint. They bled back into their natural brown and Mack's crows dissipated back into tiny particles.
"I haven't actually seen you use your magic," he said. "I can feel it though, it's big but it's cold."
"Yeah, well, we can't all be protectors of nature." She regretted it the moment she said it, but the falling of Stiles' face really set the guilt. "Crap, I'm sorry."
"It's alright, you're right." Stiles stepped down off of the porch and sat down on the steps. "Not everyone can be as bright as her. But that doesn't mean anything. Your magic is different, yes, but everyone's magic is different. It's unique, maybe a little haunted," he smiled small and she matched it. She conjured another crow, it hopped on the ground towards Stiles, jumping up onto the step by his shoes. He reached out and it jumped into his hand, weightless and radiating an icy chill.
"Maybe a little," she nodded.
"How'd you get it?" He asked, conjuring his own crow, a very deep purple with brightly colored wings.
"Born with it." She came to sit down beside him, eyes on the two crows circling each other on his hand. "My mom was a witch, and not a very nice one. Her very short relationship with a vampire resulted in Yale, that's how he can," she gestured in the vague shape of fire. "Growing up we watched her fuck with a lot of people. She's the kind of person you guys would have had to kill. She messed with a few other not so nice witches and they killed her. I was 7, Yale was 5."
"Where'd you two end up? He asked.
"Spent a few years with a friend of moms until she died. We stayed in her house until her son sold it, then we wandered for a bit. When Yale turned 16 he went to find his dad, so I stayed in California for a bit, then traveled up to Washington. Yale was disappointed with what he found so we met up in San Francisco. He liked the party scene, I wanted something a little more quiet so I went to Portland and he stayed in SF."
"When did you meet up again?" Stiles asked.
"A few years later we bumped into each other in New York. He was dating this asshole shifter that I beat the shit out of when he put his hands on Yale."
