Well, I don't know about better or worse, maybe just more surreal? I feel safe saying that.

[He imagines the wings are a bitch to try sleeping with. But they're still amazing.

He drums absently on his leg as he processes all that.]

That seems pretty agreeable, all things considered. And there's no way to tell what you're going to be, it just happens? [He looks at the scratches on his hands, mostly healed now, as if he could tell what exactly made them.]