(no subject)

[mynameisinigo]

Inigo liked to think he was the sort of man who could adjust to new things. He had been many different places and he had done many different things and he had done well at all of them. Except perhaps at being a pirate, but perhaps with more time he would have been good at that as well. But Inigo could not have imagined a day when he would wake up some time after the sun had risen, curled up at the base of a large tree, and find himself in a dress. And not a practical dress, of the sort that he would have seen women in his village wearing, nor an extravagant dress like he might have seen on a princess, but a light, purple, breezy gown. With, he discovered when he stood up abruptly and felt himself all over, pale and crinkly wings.

Confused and unsettled, for he did not know how to adjust to this new thing, Inigo started towards the Compound, wondering how overnight he might have come to find himself dressed as the sugar plum fairy.

At least he still had his sword.