**Kait**
Marcey flies from her chair, her breakfast scattering to the ground below her even as she slams her fists down to further signify her incredible outrage.
“You did what!”
I shrink back at her sudden movement, but the usual tingle that stirs in the air whenever Marcey becomes upset seems to be nonexistent for the time being. I settle back down again, waiting for her to say her piece.
She looks down at the mark on my shoulder, the wound now completely scarred over. Her face turns into a sour grimace as if staring at some diseased thing.
“It’s just,” she begins, “I never expected you to actually…well…it just doesn’t happen.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, sincerely confused as to why she’s acting like this.
“A witch and a shifter? It doesn’t happen!”
“But Marcey, I’m not really a witch,” I remind her. “And even if I was, what does it matter?”
“It matters because…well.. because….because it’s just not done. That’s why!”