- due South (155)
- Wilby Wonderful (2004) (4)
- Original Work (3)
- Temeraire - Naomi Novik (3)
- Sleeping Beauty - All Media Types (3)
03 Apr 2018
He could not help wishing for another of his kind to share this with him, to brush and twine their branches with his, to know his pollen was bringing them pleasure. But it was not worth it, not like this.
25 Mar 2018
Listen, you people of the Blue Clay, listen, you people of the Serpentine!
Listen, you hunters and fishers and gatherers, you who live on the hunting side!
You look at the farmer and think: he plows like he owns the land.
You look at the shepherd and think: she herds like she owns the flock.
A conversation in the night, in a crammed hold on the way to Scarif.
She'd lost a fair amount of blood, and didn't afterwards remember much of the cart ride up the foothills, and then further up into the mountains. But she didn't sleep either. Her mind was hazy, wandering, as she looked up into the mist swirling around the treetops, and later into the cloth slung over the cart, when the mist thickened into rain. Every jolt of the cart thumped through her bones, pulsing in her wounded chest and shoulder. Or perhaps that was her heartbeat.
"Have you been assigned quarters?" Cassian asked.
"No," Bodhi said, scraping out the bowl for the last of the soup. "They didn't--where do I sleep?"
For a shameful weary moment, Cassian wished he'd left and gone to bed before Bodhi came in and landed him with more responsibility. Then his finely honed sense of duty kicked in. He'd have to rouse the quartermaster, ask her to find him a place somewhere. But looking at Bodhi across the table from him, he was reluctant to abandon him to bunk with strangers, after what he'd gone through.