Milo doesn't think a familiar is something that's on the cards for him. There's gotten be something there about fate deciding he doesn't deserve one, after everything, but he's 28 and he's pretty sure that if he was meant to find one, he would have, by now. Not that New York had been the kind of place to find foxes and the like, but still.

The fox leans over to sniff him, and Milo knows there's more than animal curiosity going on. He can feel the magic, knows immediately that this really isn't a normal fox. Almost instinctively he knows the fox will be able to feel it; the dark ball of fury curled tight in his stomach, the way it tests the walls, desperately trying to break through. Milo clamps down harder. He's never felt a witch with this kind of power before, and he wants to get to know him, talk to him. The last thing he needs is the guy's familiar deciding he's dangerous.

"He's already looking out for you," Milo notes.