SHOULD I HAVE STOPPED?

When I was a little pup - I don't remember this incident, but sometimes Mum would tell it as a Little Sam story:

It happened one day, while still trying to wobble from coffee table to the sofa, and then to Mama, little Sam decided to skip the support stop at the sofa and just go straight to her Mama.

I tottered, naturally losing my balance after the first few unsupported steps, but instead of falling, I used the momentum to hurtle into Mama's arms. Falling face first, luckily into Mama's lap.

After that, little Sam decided hurtling herself straight into her target was the best way to "walk."

"Sam was trying to run before she learned to walk." Mum would laugh.

"Yeah, yeah, I never knew my limits, I never knew how to stop..." I would help everyone get to their usual conclusion to these little Sam stories.

And everyone would laugh at whatever memory they had of Little Sam hurtling about like a puppy bulldozer. End of story.

Back to the present where I realize how old habits died hard.

There had to be several points where I could have stopped, could've not applied all that much magic into the words.

For example, why did I fill up the cartridge to the full? If the pen was writing on one and a half stones, just adding a single stone would suffice.

I did hear the commotion Mr Tegan made about the exceptional quality of these stones right? But it hadn't registered that I was loading the pen with over powered stones or occur to me that if the pen was of any lesser quality, it could've resulted in a small explosion.

When the pen's weight felt full in my hand, the way my magic bow felt when fully loaded, I didn't in anyway feel like this might be an indication that the pen in my hand might be as dangerous. Surely the person who said the pen was mightier than the sword had seen such a pen!

When I put the nib on paper and started writing, the ink glided on the page and the magic embedded itself into each curve and stroke so visibly that the ink actually darkened on the paper...

"Tyger, Tyger, burning bright..."

Normally, shouldn't ink lighten as it dried? But these lettering darkened into the paper and I thought for a moment that it looked wetter, almost as if it were the Tyger's liquid curse.

But no, I didn't stop.

As usual, I didn't know how. Instead, I pushed the pen flow with all my heart - of all the quotes hung on display in this room, mine was going to be the most magical!

This coming from someone who was handling a fountain pen for the first time.

But I was never one to know my own limits.

"In the forests of the night…"

I think Ben was the first to realize something was up, "Sam, whatcha doing?"

In his monotone, it came out more as a by the way, but his expression was a little strained, "Cos if you're doing something crazy, we could do with a heads up."

Which could have been a good time to lift up my pen from the paper and stop, but by now, I was hurtling forwards and couldn't stop myself.

"What immortal hand or eye…"

"What's going on?" Mr Tegan asked looking around the room rather alarmed. This was a natural reaction because the room had suddenly darkened even though the lights remained above us, it was the floors… the shadows stretched out from under the furniture. Even if your wolf had zero magic perception, you would be able to see that something was out of the ordinary.

Again, I probably should have stopped at this point, but like little Sam torpedoing headfirst to the target, I rushed into the last few steps to complete the verse, "Could frame thy fearful symmetry?"

And at this point, the rectangular frame of the Tyger's black portal unfurled in the middle of the room. Everyone scattered back to give it a wide berth. Ben positioned himself just a little in front of me. I'm not sure why. I had magic hair that can zing into a near impenetrable shield - if anything flew out at us, Ben had… I guess he could punch it, but if he were really smart, he should've stood BEHIND me.

None of my wolves were really smart like that.

Anyway, the portal coughed out thick fumes that rolled out, the glossy marble floors of Mr Tegan's private lounge were now a glossy black surface, and a dark figure… the exact image of what a tyger might possibly look like in every Lycan legend retelling, stepped out completely wrapped in cursed fumes that rose like a plume of dark evil.

{Mate! ~❤}

How did I not see this coming?