climbingivy | (no subject)

Remus and August made spaghetti last night. I'm eating it cold for breakfast. It's no small challenge to get Remus to eat, and I fear I was horrible about it years ago. Getting me to eat was a task not for the faint of heart. I rarely felt hunger or the desire to eat while I was lived. Remus shared that with me, and I won't have any of the assumptions people usually generate on learning that we're both werewolves. I've seen many of my kind dig in with every intent of returning for seconds.

Mf. I'm rambling here. My mind doesn't wake up until noon! Have mercy!

August and I spoke of day to day events. I told him I was worried about his skiing hobby. He reminded me that, while he may very well be a daredevil, that he's not unintelligent about it. Lexi's not either; I just worry about standing on two slats of wood and flying down a mountain at forty miles per hour. August puts the snow machines behind him when he skis.

I wasn't gutsy enough to try such sports when I was alive. I'm a musician, a healer, and meddle in language studies. That's all I do am.

...through all that, I don't know why anyone would take my advice seriously.