"Maybe someday," I tell him, purposefully vague. I'm not sure if he actually wants to see me skate or if he's just saying it to be nice and I honestly have no idea if I'll ever feel good enough to show him anyway. I hadn't been lying to him; it's been well over a year since I last even tried practicing in actual skates. I almost never do stretching exercises anymore and I don't have Katya here to coach me. Even if I practice every single day, it's going to take months and months before I feel like I'm even half as good as I used to be, I think.

But maybe that's not the point.

Whatever the case, I can't think about it now. Right now I need to focus on serving up pie for Derek and that's exactly what I do, carefully cutting out a slice and setting it on a plate before carrying it back into the other room.

"I found it in a cookbook while I was researching pies for your Thanksgiving dinner. It's supposed to be just for werewolves. It's mostly various meats and veggies and some interesting spices. I've been experimenting with it a little, trying to hone it to your tastes, but if anything is off, tell me and I can try it again later."