Tempest

Crickets chirped loudly through the opened window as Agatha prepared for sleep. She dimmed the light, letting only a candle shine in the darkness. As she sat on her bed, tucked in under a fluffy blanket, she sighed deeply.

Two nights had passed since she relinquished her powers and couldn't sleep since then. Agatha second-guessed her decision and the thought that maybe she had rushed into making that decision ate her from the inside out.

But that night she felt different. When she closed her eyes, she saw that silver fur and remembered its softness. Agatha felt he understood her unspoken worries and turmoil. His eyes were the same as hers, lonely and picturing a struggle to understand himself.