Rin slept inside the oak’s thought. Its own memories of weather and growth continued to hum, and like a pond, its stillness reflected back herself.

Saying my story makes me want to change it, make it sound pretty the way I do with the stories I tell the workers. I'd like it to have a beginning as grand as a ball and an ending in a whisper, like a mother tucking in a child for sleep.

I was under the stars, like a fish is under water.

Finn, do you see the lias—whatever, the orange-haired girl?” Razo Gestured ahead. “Do you think she’s pretty?” Finn glanced Dasha’s way, then returned his attention ot his horse. “She’s all right.” “Really? Just all right?” Finn shrugged. Razo rolled his eyes. “What am I saying? He doesn’t think any girl is pretty but Enna.” “Are there any girls but Enna?” Finn called back. “There’d better be.

...'Goose girl, may I kiss you?' She answered by... kissing him first.

He looked at her, and the clarity of his dark eyes struck her heart with a sensation of a wound touched.

Am I the moss on your bark, then?" Ani asked. Enna grabbed her around the waist and shook her affectionately. "You're the mossiest girl I know.