"It's the truth. If you weren't my elder before, you are now," he protests. The humor doesn't seem inclined to leave his tone anytime soon.

He scuffs the grass with his boot to get the cat's attention. What is a mage to do when there's a cat not two feet from him? Try to pet it, of course.

"What? It's a fitting moniker for the pet of a Howe," he goes on. But perhaps it brings too many bad memories to the surface, given the fate of Nathaniel's father. "It'll have to do until you think of something better. A cat can't stay nameless, that's just cruel."