From observing other shifters, I determined it was because I spent most of my time in male form unless I was sneaking into a bed, pretending to be a f...male servant.I did have a lot of fun doing this because no one knew who the fuck I was. I often did it when we had guests, or I was travelling with Domo Tye. The lucky recipient was less likely to ask after me, and I told them my name was Lucy. We didn’t have a Lucy.I liked to let Lucy out for a night now and again. I noticed the subtle changes. The announcers were giving me a headache. I know it was necessary, we had to give them sufficient warning. Turning to see how the fence area was doing, I watched a giant crane lift a concrete panel from a truck then slide it into place. The crazy thing was I could hear rifle fire coming from the other side of the border. They were apparently shooting at the concrete panels or the steel and bulletproof cabs of the equipment.I watched the roofs of all four buildings to make sure there wasn't. Lyonel woke up when a bird chirped on his balcony. He had been through an uneasy night. The prior day had been the funeral of his mentor and his fathers Hand of the King, Jon Arryn. His death had surprised most of the court. Even in his seventies, the Warden of the East had been as healthy as a man half his age and he had passed away in a single night, fallen victim to an unknown illness. Lyonel was not prone to grievance, but his dreams last night had been unpleasant to say the least. Jons. Each position on the offense had a name, each direction has it’s own terminology, both the depth and width of the field had it’s own nomenclature. Each formation had at least a dozen possible check off’s in case an audible was called, I knew I had some serious work to do.Over the next few days, I repeated most of the same drills over and over, some of the terminology being thrown at us little by little. I continued to do well at some things, but have problems with others. My route running was.