Cussing at himself isn’t likely, although you can bet Bowman would probably boast at himself in an endless circle if they all let him. Otherwise it’s time to race around the room to show off their wings, and both versions can frown because they’re both just as fast. They didn’t think this one through.

Considering how much grief the tol Deans are giving little Dean in the Lounge so far, any Bowman would probably get along with him better. Those giant Deans, who do they think they are? They need a bop, is what they need.

Shy little Oscar would, like with all people, awaken a quiet “protect this little guy” notion in Bowman. With Bowman that just means he’d probably be more patient with Oscar (especially kiddo Oscar) and not heckle him like he does everyone else. It’s hard to want to be mean to Oscar for any reason. That’s a Crime.

April 3rd excerpt:

Bowman flinched, jolting him out of his luxuriant snooze. Sunlight, while technically providing energy for a wood sprite, also had a tendency to be very relaxing. Combine that with the fact that Bowman was lying on a gigantic bed, and it wasn’t so strange that he’d dozed off there.

Only to be greeted by a lot of red and something settling over his body and wings. Bowman pushed himself upright in surprise, reflexively drawing his wings close. He pushed at the red material, recognizing it as thick cloth and plenty of it. As Dean’s words finally filtered into the confused sprite’s mind, he scowled and began his search for the edge of the expanse of fabric.

“Blast it, Dean, Pray to a rock!” he groused loudly, fumbling a little thanks to the plush surface beneath him.