"Magnus." Replied the former wolfman with a shy, almost bashful smile. The sound of his own name was exquisite, so good that he almost felt he could taste it, as sweet as honey on his tongue. It seemed such a small thing, but to forget your own name is a torture you don't even realise you're enduring, and the remembering of it a relief you never imagined receiving.
He had been living as if in a dream these last few days. The simple joys of having his old body, his old thoughts, were almost indescribable. Just looking into a mirror and not having to see a scowling, hulking monster was something he had thought long lost to him. If only Granny and her lackies could see me now. Would they recognise the man I am now? Or would they be offended that Fate has undone so much of their evil work?
Thoughts of Fate, or more accurately Phil, brought a pang of guilt to Magnus. The sorcerer had given the former wolfman the greatest gift he had ever received, and in return Magnus had tried to kill him. It didn't matter that he hadn't been in control at the time, the young metahuman still bore the full weight of responsibility for his actions. He had apologised time and again, until he was blue in the face, then apologised some more. Phil was probably sick of hearing it by now, but truth be told Magnus didn't think he would ever forgive himself for the accident, so he wasn't sure why Fate should either.
He took the card from Billy, realising that he had never used one before in his life. Never had a reason to. At first his parents had cared for him, but thoughts of his parents were too painful to deal with right now. Then he had been a prisoner, and prisoners don't typically get to deal with cash. Then he had been a refugee, and in his weakest moments the Wolf had provided, but the Wolf had little interest in junk food or designer clothes. Even the clothes he wore now were just spare work out sweats, dug out from the base's practice room.
Magnus just stared at the small piece of plastic in his hand, unsure of what to do with it.
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