Nova was fascinated by everything around her. She felt like a little kid exploring a new place for the first time. Deciding to turn her new abilities into a game, she tried to see how many things different she could pick out with her senses.  Her nose twitched and she inhaled deeply.  Smoke, and pine, and…smoke, and pine…she realized she couldn’t get past Kael’s alluring scent. Fuck, she thought, ok, lets try hearing. She focused on the sounds around them, the fluttering of birds wings, digging in the underbrush, the bubbling of water, the padding of Kael’s feet and his breathing…and his body…what? no, focus Nova, she thought again. However, It didn’t matter how hard she tried, she could not get him out of her head.


    Nova quickly trotted up closer to him, and bumped him on the shoulder. She knew they should talk, but she didn’t know how to start, only that she couldn’t take the silence any longer.


    “Kael,” she said, testing out his name.


    “Mmm?” Kael hummed.


    “What are we? Are we some kind of monster? Does everyone…well, do they go through what I did?


    Kael let out a deep sigh. He glanced her way trying to figure out how best to explain. The silence between them stretched, and when he finally spoke it felt heavy. “Our kind…we come from the deep. The dark. Some of the other fae say we were cursed, others say we were chosen. Depends on who you ask.”


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    He glanced at her, gauging her reaction before continuing, and she simply tilted her head in interest and waited patiently.


    He continued his tone steady and reflective. “I suppose you could call us monsters, if you viewed us like humans do. We are stronger, faster, and live longer…sometimes much much longer. Most people think we’re all the same, but that’s ignorance talking. There are actually three kinds of us: The cursed, the changed, and the born."


    “Werewolves are turned by a bite, cursed, infected, if you will. They change under the full moon, and are more like rabid dogs, very little control. They are stronger than humans, but weaker than us. They are half-mad really, caught between what they were and can never be again.”


    “Then there are the Lycans,” he continued. “They are stronger, faster, but still made, not born. They were once human, changed through ritual or blood sacrifice. They can shift at will, control their power, but they tend to be extremely aggressive. They look more like the werewolves you see in the movies."


    "Then there are us, the Moonborne, the first, the strongest, the ones who were never just men to begin with. The moon is not our master, it is more like our mother. Our wolves are not a disease or a borrowed form. They are a part of us, separate yet one. Our souls split in two, human and beast, living in the same body, bound by something older than time itself."


    He paused briefly then gave her a long look, and said, “Your situation is…unheard of. I do not know why you were with humans, you should have been with your own kind, our kind.


    "Moonborne receive their wolves their 18th year, which is what you experienced,” he hesitated, “but I’ve never seen one burst into flames.”