Mark nodded even though she couldn't see. He'd suddenly lost any desire to talk, and his plans for a perfect day washed away with the stream. The memories. They never let him go, not even for a half hour. They always had to rush back in, bringing all the horror.
Finn said, __ou feel the wind is a bully, beating you. But that is your seeing. That is your story, not the wind__. To a bird who rides it, that wind is only a kind hand. Because the bird rides the wind__ power. Do you understand?_ Clare, bitter, cold, and wind-battered, frowned stubbornly. __ut a bird can fly. I can__ fly._ He turned to look at her, and his face was troubled. __f you cling to the safety of the rock, indeed you can__. To fly, you open your arms and fall, heart first, trusting the wind to bear you up. That__ what the birds do.
The Radiant Road
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Finn said, __ou feel the wind is a bully, beating you. But that is your seeing. That is your story, not the wind__. To a bird who rides it, that wind is only a kind hand. Because the bird rides the wind__ power. Do you understand?_ Clare, bitter, cold, and wind-battered, frowned stubbornly. __ut a bird can fly. I can__ fly._ He turned to look at her, and his face was troubled. __f you cling to the safety of the rock, indeed you can__. To fly, you open your arms and fall, heart first, trusting the wind to bear you up. That__ what the birds do.
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