There was no helping her tears. For they would leave Po behindโฆ She cried into his shoulder like a child. Ashamed of herself, for it was only a parting, and Bitterblue had not wept like this even over a death. โDonโt be ashamed,' Po whispered. โYour sadness is dear to me. Donโt be frightened. I wonโt die, Katsa. I wonโt die, and weโll meet again.
Kristin CashoreYou won't even take your bow? Are you planning to throttle a moose with your bare hands, then?" "I've a knife in my boot," she said, and then wondered, for a moment, if she could throttle a moose with her bare hands.
Kristin CashoreDear Brigan, she thought to herself. People want incongruous, impossible things. Horses do, too.
Kristin CashoreShe glanced up at him, and in that moment he pulled his wet shirt over his head. She forced her mind blank. Blank as a new sheet of paper, blank as a starless sky. He came to the fire and crouched before it. He rubbed the water from his bare arms and flicked it in the flames. She stared at the goose and sliced his drumstick carefully and thought of the blankest expression on the blankest face she could possibly imagine. It was a chilly evening; she thought about that. The goose would be delicious, they must eat as much of it as possible, they must not waste it; she thought about that.
Kristin Cashore