Looking at the rich and powerful was dangerous, like peering into the sun.

Mother was like this sometimes. Conversations became riddles with traps in them, and your answers had consequences.

Bear, I need your eyes. I need your nose. I need your night-wits and forest-wisdom.

She could find no join, no place where she ended and Bear started. In that first clumsy embrace of the spirit, they had tangled themselves hopelessly, she supposed. Whatever happened, wherever she went, there would always be Bear. Whoever knew her, or liked her, or loved her, would have to accept Bear.She could even love herself a little now, knowing that she was Bear.