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// Introduction 
// Story: The Care and Keeping of Your New Pegasus Roommate 
// by TheMutatedDeity 
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If you’re reading this, congratulations. You’ve been saddled (no pun intended. Or maybe it is. Your call, reader) with a pegasus (or multiple) as a roommate. Or hey, maybe you’re looking at this book before deciding to find a pegasus to share a place with. Good for you, doing research before doing stuff. You’re already more competent than I was when I got my pegasus and decided to wing it (double pun, kill me now). For legal reasons I should probably say I’m not an expert on pegasi, but chances are this book is gonna be more helpful than whatever leaflet you got from the Equestrian Tourism Services about how to interact with a pegasus. Surprise surprise, there’s a lot of little stuff they forgot. Good thing you have me, huh?

As you hopefully read on the cover of this book, my name’s Gylfie Harrier, employee of the Griffinstone branch of the Equestrian Postal Services and roomie of a pegasus for about a year now. I don’t like to just state the facts ‘cause let’s be real, nobody remembers straight-up factoids. Do you remember stuff when it’s shoved down your throat? Probably not! It’s boring as shit! I couldn’t tell you the rulers of Griffinstone in order, or just in general, but I could totally tell you why you should never combine fizzy soda with exploding mints while strapped to a sled on the steepest snowy hill you can find. It’s a fantastic story and you wanna know more instantly. That’s why these little life lessons are all in weird stories that make for a good laugh while sharing terrible beer. I’ll probably tell the soda and sled story someday, but I’m getting off track. Be prepared for that happening.

If you’re smart, you’re picking this up and reading it before too many interactions with your pegasus roomie. You can only laugh about something after the fact, and I don’t know too many creatures who laugh while getting mauled by a pegasus suffering molting season. We’ll get to that in a future chapter. Quick tip if you’ve picked up your pegasus during spring: keep your distance as you get through this book. Trust me on this one. If you can avoid scars with embarrassing stories, avoid ‘em, unless you want to tell people that cut on your temple was from escaping a burning building and not forgetting to knock on your roommate’s door before entering a serious preening session. Another bit of life advice, just don’t do that with any creature you’re bunking with. As my pappy Godfried used to say, “You see shit, you get hit.” Great guy by the way, real pillar of the community.

You’re probably burning to get started, so I’ll shut up in this little prologue. Is that what it’s called? Eh, I’ll ask my editor later and she’ll put whatever’s the right one on there. The real fun begins in the next chapter, so if you’re into this so far, don’t let me stop you. And if you’re not, fine. I’m not hurt or anything. Just pawn this off to your buddies or use it as a paperweight at a garage sale. But I’ll know if you say nasty stuff about it. I’ll find you, and it won’t be pretty.

Good luck,
Gylfie