With a glance towards the horizon, and the sun dipping towards it, I lowered the axe and gathered my last armful of wood for today. I entered the small house belonging to my elderly host and placed the timber in the hearth before crouching to start the fire. “You don’t have to care for me like this. I am old. If it is the will of the gods that I die, then I die,” Menelaus said from his place lying on the couch. “I enjoy defying the gods’ will. Don’t you?” I replied and tucked loose newspaper around the logs. “Some days. And some days, I feel too old to commit the effort.” “I’ll leave when you’re well enough to care for yourself.” “This is a young man’s world. You should be out in it, not stuck here with me.” I paused. “You’ve seen my wings. Would it surprise you to learn I am not as young as you think I am?” “Only if you claim to be older than I am.” Smiling, I returned to my duty of lighting the fire before I left the house to transform into my monster form.
