Sololo-Du-Maxuwelluo-Shin squirmed yet again in his chair in the office waiting room, the high backed frame not made to correspond with his five- foot wingspan. The student two chairs down from him, a gothic monstrosity with holes and sticks everywhere on his face, glared at him. Sololo-Du- Maxuwelluo-Shin - Duo for short - released a pheromone that was the equivalent of giving the student the finger. Not that the Goth could smell it, but it was the thought that counted.

Duo sighed and looked around the cream coloured office, noticing that there was only one painting on the wall. It looked as if one of the better art students had donated it, seeing as it was ... rather unorthodox. It was actually quite nice; it just took a little getting use to.

Duo got up to inspect the painting further. The Goth hissed and moved down one chair, trying to get as far away as possible. Duo didn=t even glance his way, trying to ignore the hatred in the student=s eyes.

The painting was of a disproportionate, Picasso-esque angel taking a perfect baby out of its dead mother=s arms. Not too grotesque, Duo thought. But not too happy. Huh. Look at that. This angel looks like a Wingly, ... almost.

Duo smiled, remembering what his instructor had told him about human religion. He had loved the way Gredalian-Jakorea-Lae had taught, making even the boring lessons in Human Math and Human Government fun. Of course, it helped that Duo was the only one there ...

AThere is one thing humans hate more than anything else;@ Gee had said, "Even other humans can=t compare with it. They all hate to be told they=re wrong. Especially when it comes to religion. No matter what faith, they go nuts when you bash it. Heed my words, Young Duo. Take an assertive tone with humans, but never an aggressive one. If things turn physical, you would probably win; failing that, remember that you can always fly away.@ Here, Gee had gotten up and had stood imposingly before Duo. ABut humans do not forget grudges easily, even when they have forgiven them. Be careful how you act, or you may find yourself in a kind of trouble you can=t fly away from.@

Duo had committed the words to memory.

Duo sighed and rested his head against the wall, getting another glare of protest from the Goth. The smell of hate was hanging around that boy thicker than Lily Wax hung around a farmer coming straight from the orchards. The combined feelings from the remembered smell and the lesson were enough to give Duo the worst bout of homesickness he had yet encountered. It brought him back to his dismal reality with a start.

It was his first day, and he was already in trouble. It wasn=t his fault the kid bumped into his wings! He had missed his class from sitting here so long, as the Principal was getting to the bottom of a fight that happened at lunch. The surrogate family he was staying with was horrible to him; his jaw hurt from all this verbal communicating, and he hadn=t seen one of his friends, let alone another Wingly, for six days! If he had to have one more stale, no-smell conversation with some old fart who didn=t like him just because he was a Wingly, he was going to fly back to the Colony and never come back! Screw Wingly-Human relations; he was going home!

At that moment, the Goth - who had been waiting all of ten minutes - got called in for his turn with the Principal. As he passed Duo, he huck- tooied, and caught Duo on the cheek with a wad of spit. He sauntered into the office without a glance back.

Duo sat in stunned silence for a moment, struck to the core with such an unprovoked act of malice. Slowly, he got up and made his way to the box of Kleenex that was sitting on the desktop of the receptionist=s desk.

As he wiped the spittle from his face, Duo was suddenly aware of just what people thought of him. He was not a person to most of them. Just an animal; a being without a soul or a conscience. Something to be loathed and hated; never befriended or loved.

A silent tear rolled down his cheek as he walked out of the office.