[ And Tenn had hardly expected to suddenly be in charge of a great witch’s project, but things happened. During those weeks of preparing herbs and stirring a cauldron, he was reminded that this only came about because he was a cat once, and had access to abilities he never would've normally. If others had that, if they could control their forms better in and out of dreamshifts, who knew what else they might discover?

Many people didn't like transforming. Tenn understood that. It was awkward, even frightening. Not like the heavy, sticky prosthetics and makeup of TV, but a change that affected one’s whole being. Knowing at least one person had an interest was a welcome start.

Tenn’s voice comes through the open window, friendly but distracted. ]

Hunter? You can come in.

[ It's a modest living space, and half is a kitchen – make of Tenn's hobbies what one will – with a spiral staircase hugging the trunk of the tree going up and down. Otherwise not well decorated, because the town was just getting on its feet, after all. Tenn himself standing at an old-fashioned stone stove, one hand extended to focus a small flame hovering in the fireplace. He makes a sharp dismissive gesture to poof out the flame, and only then does his attention shift off it and to Hunter. ]

Sorry, it's been some time. The Witch's Brew was understaffed for a while.

[ His smile turns curious – stage actor though he is, the drastic improvement in hairstyle catches him by surprise. ]

Ah, that looks better. Your haircut.

[ He’d certainly been puzzled by the previous state of the boy’s hair, but too polite to ask directly. ]