Twist
Week One of basic training took this cocky fairy prince’s inflated ego and stuffed it down his newly humbled throat. If my brothers had seen me, mud-spattered and muscles twitching, panting alongside a dozen humans weaker and slower than me, I would never have lived it down. I still may not. Couple that with fairly starving myself avoiding the miserable food and the exhaustion from being up half of every night learning my new friend, and I was in bad shape.
Week Two, on the other hand. Week Two made me strongly consider just grabbing Damien and Waning away to the safety of the flat. At least I could shower under hot water there. At least I could eat decent food. At least my bed wouldn’t wind my aching muscles into impossible knots. At least I could get six seconds of privacy so tha
