"I dream of a zillion cats."
"She [Rue] has bright, dark, eyes and satiny brown skin and stands tilted up on her toes with her arms slightly extended to her sides, as if ready to take wing at the slightest sound. It’s impossible not to think of a bird."
"Shouldn'ta lost me temper, but it didn't work anyway. Meant ter turn him into a pig, but I suppose he was so much like a pig anyway there wasn't much left ter do."
“When I looked at her with my power, before, I called her the Worm. She spent some time being as low on the food chain as you can get while still being able to move under her own power. As low as someone can get while still having an identity of their own. But she’s realized she’s poisonous, dangerous in her own unique way. She’s useful
, like a silkworm we harvest or an earthworm who works our gardens. She’s even realized she’s not alone, so long as she looks for friends among other dirty… contemptible
“The wolves… they call to me, Gran,” she told her grandmother quietly, head bowed. “Sometimes… I dream about running with them and never coming back.”
Gran nodded, her grip tightening on Adriane’s
“It seems Little Bird
has found her true name,” Gran said, her tired eyes brightening. “Wolf Sister.”
He wishes he were a dragon’s child.
She’d always had sharp eyes, the sharpest anyone in the village had ever seen. She could pick out a goat on the slope of the mountain across the valley, or identify which fox was taking which route towards the cavy pens, or count the petals of a blossom from across the high meadow.
She loved to look up and watch the birds - the hummingbirds flitting between flowers, the flycatchers darting after their pray, the slow graceful circles and arcs of the eagles and lammergeiers soaring on the mountain updrafts.
Dreaming of how it would feel to fly, free of the chains of the stony slopes.