Hope smiles from the threshold of the year to come, whispering, 'It will be happier.'
He'd just fetched the god of fire a bouquet of cyclamen and told a centaur to have a good flight. Troy, however, was not high. In fact, he hadn't lit up in days. And he hadn't done much besides work alone or eat a boring lunch with Jimmy in days, either. He needed a plane to jump out of, metaphorically. Something to get his blood pumping. It was a new year and he lived in an amazing place and had amazing abilities. Feeling weird and lonely just wasn't an option. Damn it. It wasn't. Fuck weird and lonely. Ok, just lonely. Weird was incurable. "Y'know know what, Frice? I'm gonna follow in Brian's footsteps and ask a pixie out or something. Wood nymph?"