Ilya sat on the exam table kicking his feet, making a thunk, thunk, thunk against the semi-hollow bottom. Sasha looked up, "Ilya, please don't do that."
The little boy sighed, "Okay, momma, why are we back? I'm not sick, and I left the stitches alone." He lifted his arm, "see."
Sasha nodded, "I see that, but Nurse Irina asked for you to come back in. So we can see why you are always hurting yourself."
Ilya shrugged, "Okay momma," He was more interested in the pictures on the walls. Most of them depict werewolf anatomy. The curious little man tilted his head, "Momma?"
"Yes, Ilya?"
"When do I get my wolf?" He asked curiously.
His mother smiled, "When you turn eighteen," she answered with a smile.
"Oh, neat," he said and returned to gently kicking the bottom of the exam table. T
