I fell asleep to the scent of my wolf. Pine needles, cold rain, earthy perfume, coarse bristles on my face.
Maggie StiefvaterThat night, like every other night since Iโd met her, I curled Grace into my arms, listening to her parentsโ muffled movements in the living room. They were like busy little brainless birds, fluttering in and out of their nest at all hours of the day or night, so involved in the pleasure of nest building that they hadnโt noticed that it had been empty for years.
Maggie Stiefvater