Tick tock, this is a clock.

Then I dive into my tent before I do something stupid like cry.

They hadn’t counted on the highly controlled jabberjay having the brains to adapt to the wild, to pass on its genetic code, to thrive in a new form. They hadn’t anticipated its will to live.

My mother says healers are born, not made.

Living out here, I have found that many creatures would prefer not to fight. But if your first instinct is to reach for your sword, you will never discover that.

The glue of mutual need that bonded us so tightly together for all those years is melting away. Dark patches, not light, show in the spaces between us.

Remember, we're madly in love, so it's all right to kiss me anytime you feel like it.