Much like a cat it would appear she had nine lives after all. The question was, how many of those nine had she already used up? Tig sat up as soon as he got off of her, eager to resume a more assertive position.
"Your bedroom window?" she repeated, doubting whether he was serious. "That's all well and good for you," Tig rose to her feet, "you've got wings."
"Your bedroom window?" she repeated, doubting whether he was serious. "That's all well and good for you," Tig rose to her feet, "you've got wings."
