Puck’s recovery is nearly complete; he’s getting monthly shots for the adrenal disease and is done getting mashed-up food fed to him like the little spoiled brat he is. Which is a good thing, not just for him, but for his brother:
Riot finishes off whatever the lean-and-mean Puck doesn’t feel like eating, and so has gone on the Winter Pudge Warning Chart from Mild to Footstool. He’s not taking kindly to me calling himMeatwad and making not-so-veiled references to Jenny Craig.
A.