I sort of kept my word about updates, okay? Okay? But this one is mostly filler, so go crazy with the worst ending of the worst chapter. I'm still trying to shell out enough chapters for my up and coming story, so I haven't had enough time to actually like work on this one fully. Sorry about that.

-Puffin

I walked the few blocks home under the overcast sky, coloring page in hand. I couldn't get Aradia's comment out of my head, the look on her face one of mystery.

It still plagued me as I reached the porch, fitting the key into the plain wooden door. I swung the door inwards, listening to the hinges squeal, and caught a whiff of what smelled like what would be that night's dinner. Burnt dinner, anyway. I began to take my shoes off in the dark hallway, but suddenly an excited streak of brown hair shot across the hall. I watched in near awe as its crusade ended abruptly as it misjudged the distance to the kitchen and hit the doorway trim with a 'whack'. I cringed slightly, and waited for a wail, but only got a slight whimper.

Another figure appeared at the doorway, my brother, Horuss, worried blue eyes hidden behind thick glasses. He bent over to his friend, pulling the boy up, ruffling his red streaked hair carefully.

"Are you okay, Rufioh?" The boy nodded, rubbing his face.

"I'm fine, but I don't think my wings are." Rufioh looked genuinely disappointed as he examined his crumpled, cheap wire wings.

I cleared my throat, and the two looked up at me. Rufioh looked slightly scared, grabbing onto Horuss's sleeve. Horuss blinked, adjusting his glasses.

"I could help straighten them out." I offered, watching Rufioh's eyes grow a little wide with surprise.

"Sure!" Rufioh pulled off the strap on orange wings, holding them out for me to take. I took them gently; then paused.

Horuss took that time to nab them from my hands. "No! You know what happened when I let you try to fix my glasses. I'll fix this myself."

I shrugged, remembering the disastrous event that had followed my attempt to help. I wasn't arguing.

Rufioh tugged on Horuss's arm, nodding towards his room. Horuss nodded in agreement, following him.

"By the way, where's dad?" I called after them.

"Out," was his reply.

I shook my head uselessly, checking out whatever was in the oven. It was frozen pizza, waiting for someone to take it out before it burnt. I did so, hissing as I grabbed the pan with my bare hands, letting it drop onto the counter. After soaking my hands in cold water for a minute, and vowing never to do that again, I put a few slices onto small plates. Younger boys didn't need napkins, right? I agreed to that, and carefully carried the plates to Horuss's room.

I rapped on the door, wincing as I heard the slight crack of wood. There was a dent in the door, adding to the collection around the house. Horuss opened the door, nabbing the plates and immediately slinking back in.

I stopped him, slipping into the room myself. A pair of wings lay forgotten on the floor, and Rufioh sat next to them, straightening a seemingly complicated game.

"Get outta my room, me and Rufioh are playing Fiduspawn." Horuss grumbled, handing a plate to his friend, joining him on the floor.

"I see that." I said simply, and then sighed. "If you want me to get you a new door I can. There's a lot of dents on this one."

"Maybe if you stopped bugging me there wouldn't be huge dents in my door." Horuss snapped back, leaving his black pizza abandoned on the floor.

"I'm sorry for being an older sibling that makes sure their younger brother hasn't been stolen away or anything." I left the argument quickly, retreating from his room. "And you're welcome for the pizza."

"It's gross; take it out of the oven sooner."

I clenched my jaw, glaring into his hidden blue eyes. "Look, you're almost ten. You can at least try to take a circle of dough from the oven before it burns." I slammed the door behind me, hearing the hinges creak in a whiny way, praying they would stay put. As they did, just barely.

I walked back to the kitchen, rubbing the skin between my eyebrows. I remembered the coloring page I had set on the counter earlier, and before it was thrown away, I took a magnet, letting it hang from the fridge. It was fitting among the fliers and old family photos. Unfamiliar to the frowning pictures and dull seminar pamphlets.

I glanced down at the pizza on the counter, and without a second thought, let it slide into the trash can. Wouldn't want anyone without an iron stomach eating it.