It says that all gods enjoy making jokes at my expense. Even the ones here. Foggy's a bitch, this sort of thing is right up her alley.

[Ugh, why does the wizard get the cool back wings? Bert wanted those. Not that his own aren't perfectly nice wings he can use very well, but...]

[Gods, the impulse to go for the wizard's throat is strong. He's quick. So quick he can't be seen properly when he moves. It wouldn't be permanent, but it would be so, so satisfying. His prehensile, tubelike tongue darts out from between the gap in his terrible teeth, as though scenting the air. Or anticipating.]

[When he does move, in a dark blur, it's to leap up and grab the side of a building with his feet and one hand, to gain the height advantage.]

You would be a fan of hers.