...ommercial and derivative uses are not authorized without express permission from the author. Read, enjoy, and feel free to share this file in its en... ...n hand when I had the chance. Once I had, I received constructive feedback from many people. Some read only small portions of the manuscript while ... ...calling for food above her melded into a single, insistent voice, a command from the forest itself. She thought of home, remembered why she was here... ...onor bestowed for an honor. She watched as the Yata continued to write. His strokes whispered on the parchment, his script fluid and unhurried. Even... ...mon voice, that one. Just an innocent boy asking an innocent question. Zai stroked her children's tiny heads, nestling her palm against their fuzzy... ...erior neck fuzz upwards, drawing brush from clavicle to chin, following her strokes to each end of her jawbone. From there she brushed down along th... ...We treat them as gods; that way they can justify participating in their own deaths." He sighed, deep and gravelly. "Without us they are ordinary. Im... ...ep eye contact and hissed, "My child, I have lived through many years, many deaths and Remembrances, and I have long known about your kind. The gods... ... the side off a stubby corridor. Therein rested the Masari records— births, deaths, transfers of land and property, accountings of business. They we...