There were monsters outside. And there was fog that made people crazy. And heaven only knew what else was out there.
Warren had been out in it once, and once was more than enough. He just didn't have the tights for this superhero stuff. What was he supposed to do? Flutter the monsters to death
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Right.
In an attempt to distract herself, she wandered into the common room. "Warren," she said, with a little wave. "Ooooh, we're watching elephants fly?"
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Even if he did kind of wince in sympathy every time they plucked the magic feather from that poor crow's butt.
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Waiting, incidentally, sucked. You could quote Tara on that.
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It just meant that there was more of him to cramp up while he was hiding from the giant dinosaur.
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She gave him a half-smile and added, "But your wings are very pretty."
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"Pretty and functional," he offered. "You can't really beat that combination. Usually."
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Well, okay, his wings would probably get very gross, very quickly. But, you know, at first.
"Except broccoli."
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... speaking of things that would make his wings gross quickly.
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"I don't think cheese would improve my plumage any," he offered, helpfully.
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"Some people really like ranch dressing smell?" she offered hopefully.
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Considering the conversation they were having, it was a wonder the two of them weren't seeing more pink elephants than just the ones on the TV.
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"Not that I know of," Warren confessed, shaking his head. "But maybe that's for the best. I think food dispensing could probably get... um. Awkward."
Warren was overthinking this again.
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They could start a team for overthinking!
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... He couldn't help it. He'd been hanging around Bobby this week.
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