Fang looked at the newest bird kid. Dylan was an inch or two taller than he was, and somewhat heavier built, though he still had the long, lean look of a human-avian hybrid-you couldn't make bricks fly.

It gets so tiring, this strong-picking-on-the-weak stuff. It was the story of my life -literally- and it seemed to be a big part of the outside world too. I was sick of it, sick of guys like these, stupid and bullying.

Some kids get called "bundles of joy" or "slices of heaven" or "dreams come true." We got "the fifty-fourth generation of DNA experiments." Doesn't have the same warm and fuzzy feel. But maybe I'm oversensitive.

I fell into a deep sleep tucked in that little cocoon, a deeper sleep than I might of had in years. Right up until someone kicked me and said "Gotcha!

But what is life if you don't live it?

How could you stop loving me?

Max: "Fang! This is a huge break! Of course we should go check it out!" Fang: "But we're grounded." Max and Fang: (stare at each other for a second and burst out laughing)