Minho had always minded his own business when it came to interacting with the townspeople. A few centuries ago, nobody had minded living in close proximity with a witch, quite the opposite really. They knew they benefited from being on Minho’s good side because he was well studied in medicinal herbs and potions, so whenever somebody was ailing, the witch was a good call. As time passed and doctors eventually got better at their trade, Minho wasn’t as needed anymore and worried for their jobs, the doctors did their best to ruin his reputation and encourage people to turn to ‘real medicine’. The only thing people considered the town’s witch good for were curses but despite all the rumors circulating, Minho never performed those. Life in town eventually became unbearable for him though, so he gathered his three cats, Soonie, Doongie and Dori, and relocated to a brick hut deep in the forest.
When Minho realized just how cliché it looked, the local witch hiding away in a hut in the forest, he laughed bitterly but at least nobody would bother him there. To make absolutely sure, no one would find his new home, he cast multiple protection spells and concealed the place from view. He had a lot of work to do to turn this place into a home but when he was done, he had fallen in love with his new home and he wasn’t alone after all. Soonie, Doongie and Dori had adjusted to their new life quite well, not affected by Minho’s concealment spells at all. They always found their way back home after roaming the forest. Soonie had made the rocking chair in front of the brick fireplace his typical spot, while Doongie favored the windowsill. Dori usually watched Minho from his spot perched on the bookshelf containing his oldest spell books. Minho had even placed a pillow up there, so Dori would be comfortable.
Sitting in his rocking chair by the fire with Soonie in his lap, Minho came to realize just how far he had come. Though it had been centuries ago, he still vividly remembered how he had begged for a slice of stale bread as a child after his father had abandoned him. He had been expected to either perfect his skills or hide away his magic completely but how could he learn when his teacher, his mother whom he had inherited his gift from, had been burned at the stake? As a child, still controlled by his emotions, how could Minho be expected to suppress his powers? It was impossible, something uncontrolled always happening once he got emotional and after many ‘do better’s, Minho found himself out on the streets.
He had improved his skills then, a small flame hovering in his palm the only thing keeping him from freezing. His first magic book had been a gift by a travelling merchant, who had seen something in the skinny boy that gave him pause. The rest of Minho’s collection had been acquired over the years once he had started selling simple potions and spells to make a living. Had he actually gotten as far as he thought? Sure, he had a roof over his head and three cats to keep him company by a crackling fire. There were enough plants in the forest for him to harvest and when he felt like it, he could visit to market in town wearing a disguise. It was a comfortable life, something Minho hadn’t dared dream of back when he was an abandoned boy out on the streets. Yet, he was once again hiding away because his gift made people uncomfortable, so things didn’t change as much as it had seemed at first glance.
Fall had come faster than Minho had anticipated, so he was shocked when he stepped out the door and was hit by a cold gust of wind. He pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders, freezing fingers gripping the wicker basket. It would probably be the last trip into town for a while, so he was determined to stock up on some things. He had learned to bake his own bread decades ago and flour was easy to store, so he’d grab a bunch of ingredients to prepare for winter. With the sky overcast and him being out soon after sunrise, it was still dim out and he was confident that nobody would recognize him. Besides, with the thin drizzle of rain, nobody would question him having his hood up, conveniently concealing most of his face.
In moments like this, Minho was especially grateful for his powers, the enchanted basket barely weighing him down despite him buying loads. He had sold a few herbal tea blends, nothing magical but honoring his knowledge nonetheless. This way, he could make just enough to trade and buy himself whatever he needed without raising too much suspicion, though his trips to town would get rarer as the seasons grew colder. Minho really hoped the rain would stop, so he’d be able to harvest some more wild herbs in the forest to dry and store for the winter. He liked having everything sorted ahead of time, it was reassuring to know he had everything he might need.
Once he was deep enough into the forest, so nobody would see him, Minho let go of his basket and it levitated next to him. Those were the small comforts of being a witch, he thought to himself, conjuring up a small flickering flame in his palm to warm his hands. His eyes scanned the forest floor in hopes of finding some plants that he could harvest on his way home without having to take a detour and get soaked, when he almost tripped over something. Minho needed a moment to realize that the tiny bundle he had almost stepped on was in fact an animal. A small squirrel, fur soaked by the rain, shivering as it curled up tighter to preserve warmth. Clicking his tongue at the pitiful creature, Minho squatted down and scooped the squirrel up. It was cold to the touch, stiffening at being lifted into the air. “It’s okay, little one”, Minho cooed, “Are you hurt? We’ll get you warmed up soon and then I can see what’s wrong with you.” If the animal wasn’t hurt, there was no reason for it to curl up where it lay, so Minho was worried but couldn’t do much while out here, opting to place the squirrel in a pocket of his cloak to shield it from the rain and take it back to his hut.
Minho couldn’t be bothered with his basket when he got home, leaving it by the door as he rushed to the small wooden table in the kitchen. Carefully peeling the squirrel out of his cloak, Minho held it in his cupped hands and his heart ached when it still shivered. “No, Dori, don’t”, the witch warned his ever-curious cat, “What are we gonna do with you, little one, hm?” He gently turned the squirrel in his hands, relieved to not find any blood on it. Focusing on warming it back, Minho bundled it into a warm scarf that still dangled from his coatrack before going to stoke the fire, so his hut would warm up. The tiny squirrel looked too fragile to approach it with one of his magical flames, he wouldn’t take the risk.
Once the fire was crackling nicely, Minho shaped the scarf into a small nest and left it on the mantlepiece, so the squirrel would have a cozy place to rest. Since he fancied a hot cup of herbal tea to warm up, Minho also poured some tea into a saucer and added a few drops of a vitalizing potion, placing it next to the nest, whispering: “Have some warm tea, yeah? We’ll have you back on your feet in no time. Oh, I didn’t introduce myself yet. I’m Minho. That’s Dori and over there are Soonie and Doongie. You don’t be afraid, they won’t hurt you. Should we come up with a name for you too? Hm, how about Han because you can fit into a single one of my hands?”
Minho slowly sipped his tea in between storing away his purchases, smiling when he glanced towards the mantlepiece and noticed that Han had stopped shivering. Han eventually found the strength to get out of the nest and lap up most of the potion-enhanced tea Minho had left for him. He had already looked tiny while curled up but when he finally uncurled, Minho noticed that he was emaciated. No wonder he had been freezing. It seemed Han wasn’t injured but far too weak to survive the fast-approaching winter. Maybe he had gotten hypothermic while foraging to create a food stash for winter. Clicking his tongue, Minho grabbed a handful of acorns from his cupboard and cooed: “You’re so skinny, Hannie. Here, you need to eat well, so we will get you nursed back to health soon.”
Usually, he waited for winter to bake his trademark roasted nut cookies but they always comforted him when he was down because they were the first sweet treat he learned how to prepare back when he could first afford the ingredients. There had only been small adjustments over the centuries when some of the ingredients weren’t available anymore and new things were invented but they remained pretty similar and they were sinfully sweet, exactly what Han needed right now. Besides, Minho was feeling domestic now that he got another child to take care of. Soonie, Doongie and Dori would always remain his babies but they had become pretty self-sufficient, so he wasn’t too worried about them, unlike Han.
Humming a soft tune, Minho worked in the kitchen and it didn’t take long for the entire hut to fill with a sweet scent while white puffs of smoke rose from the chimney. He hadn’t kept too close of an eye on his pets, so he startled when he approached the mantlepiece and realized that Han was gone. Working himself into a panic, Minho searched the hut before glancing at Soonie curled up in the rocking chair by the fire. Always the caring one, Soonie had hopped onto the mantlepiece and collected the squirrel for cuddles. Nuzzled into Soonie’s fur, Han was almost completely concealed from view had Soonie not trilled at Minho to catch his attention. “Are you keeping Hannie warm?”, the witch chuckled, tickling Soonie under his chin before stroking Han’s head with one finger, “Thank you for taking care of him for me. Rest well, you two. We’ll have some nice cookies later.”
Doongie and Dori had eventually settled down too, though they kept their distance from the rocking chair. While the cookies were baking in the oven, Minho set about cooking a pot of pumpkin soup. Though he had a sweet tooth, he knew he couldn’t run on only sugar and needed something hearty to warm him from the inside. He loved both, cooking and baking but he couldn’t really be bothered with the cleanup. Being a witch certainly had some perks, Minho smirked as he watched the equipment wash itself over the sink and he only had to direct it to the right cupboards with a wave of his hand.
Quietly approaching Soonie and Han, Minho untangled the squirrel from Soonie and took him to the kitchen. “Did you have a nice nap?”, he whispered, carrying Han on one of his arms while checking the cookies on the cooling rack, “I made a sweet snack for you to regain your energy and some pumpkin soup for myself. The seeds are roasting over the fire with some of the chestnuts I collected a week ago, so we have enough food stashed for you too. Here, try one of the cookies.” Minho carefully broke the cookie into smaller bits and fed them to the squirrel, who hesitated at first before eagerly reaching for the next crumb, making Minho laugh. Picking up another cookie, the witch chuckled: “I’m glad you like them. They’re some of my favorites.” He tried a cookie himself before refraining from taking another with some struggle, reminding himself to eat some soup first. Sure, nobody would tell him what to do but he had also learned that no one would take them from him, well, Han now maybe but he could always make more.
Soonie, Doongie and Dori occasionally hunted in the forest and Minho supplemented their diet with dried strips of meat or smoked fish that he bought at the market, so he didn’t have to worry much about those three. He filled a bowl of pumpkin soup for himself and served Han two roasted chestnuts and a bunch of pumpkin seeds, making sure they had cooled down a little, though they were still warm when Han pounced on them. It was obvious that he hadn’t eaten in a while, his cheeks bulging at the large bites he took. Having been a starving child out in the streets too, Minho knew that there was no use in telling him that he could slow down, that there would be more and nobody would take it from him. Instead, he slowly added individual pumpkin seeds when Han was done, effectively getting him to slow down, so he wouldn’t make himself sick. “Let’s have one more cookie each before it’s time for sleep”, Minho smiled, breaking up one cookie for Han and slipping one between his lips before sealing away the rest in a tin.
The sun set early that night, earlier than Minho had expected, which was always weird around this time of year. He had kept Han on him for most of the evening, the squirrel apparently finding comfort in his presence but now that he felt ready to go to bed, he returned it to its nest on the mantlepiece. That way, Han would stay warm without Minho accidentally laying on him. He didn’t really worry about Han’s safety anymore because he knew his cats had accepted him and Soonie was taking care of him too. That was probably why he let himself fall into a deep sleep devoid of any dreams, like it had been for many decades already.
When Jisung awoke, his body ached all over but at least he wasn’t cold anymore. He found himself laying in front of a fireplace, the flames crackling softly, and it took a moment till he noticed the cat pressed against his side. “Are you Soonie?”, he asked hoarsely, voice cracking from not being used in so long. Looking down to see whether his body was as bruised as it felt, Jisung realized that all that covered him was his bushy tail and he weakly got to his feet. His knees felt funny at first and he stumbled almost falling as he took the first few steps. Eventually, he managed to get to the coat rack on trembling legs and wrapped himself in Minho’s cloak, subconsciously taking a deep breath. The witch’s scent had something soothing to it and it seemed to ground Jisung as he settled back down in front of the fireplace, absentmindedly running his fingers through Soonie’s fur.
Doongie and Dori eventually joined the two in front of the fire and Jisung was slowly piecing together where he was and what had happened. Everything was blurry still but he remembered Soonie and Minho, also warming up to Doongie and Dori once they approached him. To his surprise, he was barely bruised at all though he knew he had to have fallen off the mantlepiece and to the floor during his transformation. Luckily, he hadn’t fallen too close to the fire, his tail could easily catch. His stomach still growled and the sweet smell coming from the kitchen, where Minho had left the tin with cookies but Jisung didn’t dare grab one. He was already anxious thinking about Minho finding him in his human form. It had been almost a year since he had last been human anyways, so not like actually knew how to act like a normal human being around Minho.
The transformations weren’t under Jisung’s control, never had been since he had been cursed. They seemed to happen at random, though he was forced to spend more time in his squirrel-form. Him and his friends had always been a little mischievous but it seemed that Jisung had messed with the wrong person in his childhood and ended up turned into a squirrel. On the rare occasions that he changed back to his human form, he tried to survive in the woods, often spending the nights freezing and with terrible stomach cramps because he had had yet to learn which plants were edible and could be foraged and which would make him sick. As years passed though and Jisung turned into a young man, he knew exactly what he could eat and where he could find shelter while in his human form. Never did he come across Minho’s hut though, the spells too effective for him to see through.
Jisung didn’t even notice how he had started to pick at his tail, a nervous habit of his, till Soonie swatted at his hands. Heaving a shaky sigh, he let go and instead tried to inhale as much of Minho’s scent off the cloak as possible. It had been so long since he had last slept indoors, so he should treasure it as long as it lasted because Minho would undoubtedly kick him back out tomorrow once he realized that Jisung wasn’t what he thought he was.
Well, Minho was expectedly shocked when he sleepily shuffled into the kitchen to prepare his morning tea and found a stranger on the rug in front of his fireplace. He had put so much effort and magic in hiding his hut from view, there was simply no way someone could possibly come in there, yet someone was there. For a moment, Minho doubted being fully awake, even more so when he realized that the furry bundle around the man weren’t only his three cats but some of the fur seemed to belong to the man himself. Was that a tail?
As Minho stepped closer, he also spotted the tufted ears that blended in so well with his hair that he hadn’t noticed them at first glance. Backing away stunned, Minho snuck over to the shelf and carefully scanned over the assortment of books before pulling one out. He tried his best to be quiet as to not wake the creature. It had been decades since he had last glanced into this book, so it was considerably dustier than most of the others. Minho stifled two itchy sneezes into complete silence, nervously glancing over at Han, well, he thought that it was Han. There were only a few options that could explain the scene in front of him. One would be that Han was a shapeshifter, deliberately changing to lay a trap for him but shapeshifter were usually predatory animals and considering in how rough shape Han had been, Minho doubted he could’ve still controlled his transformations, so that was unlikely.
The other options were either a curse or him being born with very rare hybrid-genes. Both options were so rare, Minho had doubted he’d ever encounter them in his exceptionally long lifetime but one of them had to be the case because there was no doubt that the person with the bushy squirrel tail in front of his fireplace was in fact real. Minho had blinked and rubbed his eyes enough times to accept that he wasn’t just seeing things. Maybe Han would be kind enough to explain himself once he woke up. That brought Minho to problem number two, aside from a stranger in his hut. Said stranger was wearing his cloak, so he figured the transformation had left him rather exposed. Not wanting to make their introduction more uncomfortable and awkward than it absolutely had to be, Minho went back to his bedroom and grabbed warm woolen trousers and a knit-sweater for Han to put on.
For some reason, he didn’t find the heart to approach and wake Han, him snuggled up with Minho’s three cats just looked too cozy to be disturbed. Instead, the witch made some tea and added more wood to the fire as he waited for the other to wake up. Dori was the first to wake up, purring as he walked up to Minho and rubbed his head against the witch’s leg. Reaching down to pet Dori, Minho hummed: “What’s up with Hannie, hm? I don’t think he’s bad, you would’ve fought him if he was, right? Who is he and what is he?”
He didn’t have to wait all that long though, Jisung eventually stirring awake to Doongie nuzzling his cheek. “Good morning”, Minho smiled when the other sat up, his hair sticking in all directions. Visibly startling, Jisung whipped his head around to face Minho, his hands immediately reaching for his tail to pick at it. Clicking his tongue, the witch scolded: “Don’t do that. You’ll lose your fur.” – “But… How are you not mad?!”, the other stammered, hands trembling as he dropped them into his lap. “Well, I’m certainly confused, so if you could explain yourself that’d be lovely”, Minho shrugged, “Who are you?”
“Who am I?”, Jisung mumbled, more to himself than to Minho, “Who am I? …I am not- I am not… me.” – “No?”, the witch frowned, trying to make eye contact but Jisung desperately avoided it. Taking a seat on the floor too, so he wouldn’t be looking down at the other, Minho hummed: “There are some clothes next to you. You can go put those on while you try to figure it out.” – “I-I don’t need to figure it out”, Jisung whispered, “I know, I know who I am but it’s not who I used to be.” Taking a deep breath to brace himself, he continued: “My name is Jisung. I used to be a human boy but- I rarely get back my human form anymore.” – “So Jisung, I take that you can’t control it and you weren’t born like this…”, Minho concluded sympathetically, earning a small nod, “Were you ever cursed.” Another, even smaller nod.
He made Jisung get dressed properly, while he prepared breakfast for both of them, deciding they could figure things out over a meal. When Minho turned and spotted Jisung in his clothes, he chuckled: “Oh dear, you’re literally drowning in that sweater. It’s cute though.” The other couldn’t help but blush at the unexpected compliment. His stomach grumbled audibly and Minho ushered him to the table, serving a cup of tea and a steaming bowl of porridge.
