Julien does not want to fight, not really. He's tired of all this. His wings come out of their tight fold to droop, the tips of his primaries touching straw.

"I do know a place," he mutters. "It's not good for me in the long term, but that's incentive to leave, isn't it. I wouldn't be a strain on the owner."

Because if he goes with Aaron, he will be a strain. Julien knows how small that house is, how big he is now, how much he eats, and Aaron will want to help him, when he's putting plenty of himself into work as it is.