Chapter 2: Son of a Witch
When Kir was one year old, he asked Brigit where his mommy went.
After listening to her wonder over his having a remarkable memory for a baby and oh how clever he was to be talking so young, she told him that his mommy had to go far away and didn't want him to get hurt.
That, more than anything, told Kir the type of person his adopted mother was. She was the sort of person who would protect a child, even from the truth. Even when said child came with horns and a tail, like Kir.
Brigit was a witch. Standing a meter and a half tall, she had auburn hair and deep purple eyes. She was human, with bronze, freckled skin, and a smile like the sun.
This was, as Kir would discover, in stark contrast with himself. He looked nothing like her, since he had firey red hair and little horns on his head. A short tail grew from above his crack, widening the closer it got to the base of his spine.
When he first saw himself in a mirror, it was to discover that he had olive skin and hair that resembled fire, black at the roots fading out to a lot of red. His eyes, however, were deep purple, fading into dark red at the edges of his irises and a tiny bit of blue around his pupils.
He could tell he was going to be quite the looker when he grew up, provided he exercised, and that brought him a lot of joy. Oh, but he hoped people didn't mind the horns and tail.
His adoptive mother was clearly human, and he couldn't recall ever seeing anyone else stop by.
Of course, he'd been confined to his room the whole time by virtue of being a baby.
The next question he'd asked was who his mom was, and Brigit cried when she told him she was a very scared lady, who said she couldn't afford to raise him.
"Why was she scared?" he asked.