“It’s a hard thing for a child to face the imperfections and weaknesses of her parents. Somehow, even when you are grown, you still feel that they must be somehow wiser and stronger than you. But even my parents, heroes that they were in their own special way, were very far from perfect.”

Outside the wind was howling like a whole pack of wolves. By the calendar spring had arrived, but in the far north of Mysteria spring was still months away. Fortunately for Aidan and his wife Flame Song their home was well protected against the elements. There was, however, a storm of another kind raging inside that drowned out the howling wind. Instead, the howl of a childish temper-tantrum filled every room of the house.

“Not gonna, not gonna, not gonna!”

Flame Song and Aidan exchanged a glance. Firedart, their youngest son, hadn’t thrown a tantrum in weeks, but it looked like he’d been saving up for this one. He was a hot-tempered boy of five, with his firecat-white hair just starting to show faint streaks of orange. Tonight’s tantrum was over bedtime. Firedart had decided he was old enough now to stay up late and when his mother told him no he started kicking and screaming.

Phoenixflare, Firedart’s twin brother, was already curled up in his bed. The twins were completely different in both appearance and temperament. Where Firedart was hot-tempered and perhaps a bit spoiled, his brother was a calm, quiet, and obedient child who had never thrown a tantrum. Sometimes his father wondered at his Zen-like calm despite anything the world might throw at him. In a family of shapeshifters, both boys could look like anything they wanted, but where Firedart spent most of his time in the half human, half firecat form he’d been born in, Phoenixflare was almost always in full firecat form. At the moment he had wrapped the orange-feathered wings that marked him as a phoenix clan throwback around him and put his paws over his ears in an attempt to drown out his brother’s howls so he could fall asleep.

His mother Flame Song was seriously considering doing the same thing. She and her husband exchanged glances at their son’s antics. Aidan shrugged and walked over to sit on a low pile of cushions next to the last member of their family, their daughter Littlespark. Littlespark was eight years old, though she looked older. She too was in human form, an orange-haired little girl with grass green eyes. She was cute as a button, and had her dad wrapped around her finger. She didn’t need to throw tantrums and she knew it.

“I wish he would be quiet, Daddy. I can’t even think!”

Aidan smiled. “He’ll give up soon enough. What are you doing?” He indicated the pad of paper and pencil the girl held. A whole set of colored pencils was scattered on the floor around her.

“I’m drawing. I wanted to do a picture of our family, see? Only I can’t decide what shape to draw everybody in.”

Aidan laughed. He’d never have imagined in his wildest dreams that one day he would be married to a shapeshifter and have three little shapeshifting children of his own. And that’s not even the half of it, he thought to himself. “Why don’t you ask everyone what they want to be drawn as?” He said in response to his daughter’s question. “Though you won’t have to ask me,” he added with a grin. Aidan didn’t share his wife’s talent for changing forms. He had his own abilities.

“But I can’t ask Dart right now,” she said, referring to her screaming younger brother by the short form of his name, “and Flare is going to sleep.”

“Well, your bedtime isn’t far off either, Spark,” said Aidan, “So maybe you should just wait until tomorrow to finish it.”

Her brow wrinkled as she considered his proposal. “I’ll draw you today,” she decided, “and do everyone else tomorrow.” She bent over her paper and started drawing. Aidan peered over her shoulder. She was only eight, but she already showed quite a bit of talent. Her picture was obviously a child’s drawing, but was much better than a stick figure. It showed Aidan’s slight form, white wings, raven-dark hair, and sky blue eyes fairly accurately by the time Littlespark finished with it.

Also by the time she’d finished Firedart had given up on his tantrum and been put to bed. Flame Song joined her husband and daughter in front of the fire for a few minutes. “I like it, it’s very good,” she said, looking at Littlespark’s picture.

“Thanks, Mom. Guess I should go to bed now.” She picked up her pencils and headed for her room.