Most of his life Warren had been fueled by fear. When he'd hacked off his wings at twelve it was because he was afraid of his father finding out. When they grew back, he didn't take a knife to them because he was afraid of the pain. He'd been able to do it the first time because once he'd started there was no turning back, even though the pain made him think he might die. When he first learned to fly it had been because he'd been cornered on the roof at school they were gonna beat him up, he'd jumped hoping to send the bastards to jail but his wings forced his big coat off his thin shoulders and caught him before he'd hit the ground. He'd sailed off, it came as naturally to him as walking though it tired him out quicker. After that he'd never gone back to school his father had payed for tutoring and had spread rumors about the boys being high when it happened and Warren not returning to school because he was injured. Sometimes after that when they were at the summer house on the lake he'd go flying, never where anyone would see. He'd agreed to the cure because he was afraid if he didn't he would loose his father even more than he already had. He'd stopped the cure from going into his blood stream because he realized that there was thing that made him feel full of unadulterated joy and if he took the cure he'd loose it forever. After that he didn't do anything out of fear, he'd gotten angry and forced himself out of the restrainst and jumped through the window showing off his fancy flying skills for the first time.