Tis the gift to be gentle, ’tis the gift to be fair, ’Tis the gift to wake and breathe the morning air, To walk every day in the path that we choose, Is the gift that we pray we will never never lose.

"I thought Indians built fires with fiction." .... "I can do that, but I'd like to eat sometime in the next day or so. Sterno and Bic are much faster."

You can't cage an eagle for long without destroying it.

Much awkwardness ensued.

When we got to the moron who was sitting in the only path to the stairway, Adam caught my waist and lifted me over before stepping over the man himself. “Scott?” Adam said as we headed upstairs. “Yeah?” “Unless someone shoots you, skins you, and throws the results on the floor, I don’t want to see you lying in the walkway again.” “Yessir!

I'm a coyote shapeshifter playing in a world of werewolves and vampires---outmatched is n understatement.

Adam swore harshly. "New werewolves are dangerous, woman. Especially when they are cold and hungry." He looked at Mac, and his voice changed completely, the heat and anger gone, "Mercy, come here." I didn't look down to see what he'd noticed in Mac's face. I took a step, but Mac was wrapped around my left leg. I stopped before I fell. "Uhm. I'm a little stuck for the moment.