Disclaimer: I don't own anything Xanth related- unless you count Winston's talent, which and friend and I made up and suggested to Piers.

Note: A quick little drabble, about the talent a friend and I toyed with. Warning, as this is my first ever dabbling in the Xanth fandom, really.


It was days like these where he felt miserable. It just wasn't fair.

Winston sighed forlornly, frowning. He had terrible luck, really.

As a young man nearing adulthood in North Village he had to deal with many problems, like everyone else. The same sort of teen problems one could expect, perhaps. First of all there was the girl he liked – Catalina, who could speak strange tongues no one, except for Mundanes, recognized – who seemed to have no interest in him at all. Second was the fact that a number of his peers were always teasing him about his spot-on-the-wall class talent. Completely useless, except for in select few situations (his own mother said it helped her worry about him a little less, and that he might find a use for it when he himself had children), and a rather annoying talent, too.

The last problem was his desire to be with his friends and to do normal teen sorts of stuff. But he could never get near enough for a single taste before his talent began all of its meddling.

As it was, he was teased about all of the constant whining and griping – perhaps a side effect of his talent? – that he seemed to do, non-stop.

"I hate this." He whined with a pout as he reached forward – just a little further! – toward his father's bottle of wine – perhaps not so worried? – left out where he could reach it. With a sigh he picked it up and used the bottle to pour himself some water.