The Little Prince took a bad spill off his scooter yesterday and hobbled home with both knees bunged up. It’s the first time he’s ever had to limp back after a fall, which may have been why he came in and yelled “I’M BLEEDING!”
I didn’t know I could still move that fast.
On the bright side, he’s got amazing bandages to wear to school. And we know that even at thirteen (practically a grownup, as he tells me) he can still be soothed by Mum’s calm voice.
So, chapter 9 of She Wolf and Cub is up! Geoff goes into battle for Abby’s honor, or something, and Sam is, as ever, shifty as fuck. I love this story so much.
All the art is hung back up in my bedroom. I harvested fava beans yesterday, the werewolf short story that’s eating my head continues apace, and the third Gallow book is at a simmer. There’s still copyedits to deal with, and I have to figure out how to work in a red cape somewhere.
I can just hear Edna LaMode now. “NO CAPES!”
Plus there’s Latin to study. If that and piano doesn’t make my brain a goddamn superhero, I want a refund.