Her eyes narrowed anew. She knew more about werewolves than she had ever wanted to but how could he possibly know that? Perhaps it was just as it appeared on the surface – a genuine gift, well genuine in so much that he was crawling after her old job, that happened to have an unfortunate secondary layer of meaning that he was not aware of.

But why werewolves? Of all the creatures in the world he could have chosen he happened to pick up this book?

“I expect I do,” she tilted her head, opening it to take a look at the pages and feeling marginally reassured by the elegant but achingly old-fashioned text. It actually was rather ornate, with beautiful drawings which did suggest it actually was a present. One particular image jumped out at her, curiousity getting the better of her underlying worry. “Where did you get this? This picture looks like part of a story I was told as a child.”

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MJ knows my soul rings to the rune of this iconic hat