I am a kite in a tornado but I have a long string. There is tension in my line. Somewhere, someone is holding onto the other end and, although it cannot spare me this storm, it will not let me be lost while I regain my strength. It is enough.

The running pants were tolerable, Drustan decided, relieved. The blue trews had clearly been a torture device and would have strangled a man's seed. Mayhap men were fashioned differently in her time. He hadn't seen one other bulge out there on the street; mayhap they all had wee carrots in their trews.

If you're trying to force the story to be a straight up romance, it's going to be weird for you.

Like sheep, sidhe-seers herd by nature, until you *want* them to go somewhere. Then they're all fluffy bottoms and broken.

Naught will be done to you that you doona wish done. Dageus MacKeltar

Please tell me we don't grow up and turn into the adults that drive us crazy.

I hope when I'm ninety-five the only things I want are free: love, family, a good home-cooked meal.