The thing about my sons was that I had a favorite. One son whom I was proud of, and two that were just there.
Pan was busy.
I was not needed.
No, I was just the Foodie Nymph. The nymph who was there to feed armies.
For all that the demons who were attacking us were incubi and succubae, even if most of them were off to Forestria for a wild night, it didn't mean that they were going to stop attacking.
I knew that. I hated that.
Why couldn't the world just stop having wars? Why couldn't my sons just find a nice home and have a pleasant life?
Why couldn't I do that?
"Hey," Max was there, by my side. He looked so as if he were considering feeding me a cake.
I was in the mood to be fed, for once. Maybe something that had strawberries in it?
A shortcake?
"Max, I'm hungry," I hoped that he was not a pervert who'd think that me being hungry meant that I was going to demand sex.
No, he was still a stranger.