Mine, ... Mine Is What She Is.

But That Was The Trouble With Ancient Artifacts - No One Really Knew What They Did.

If There Was Such Evil In The World, Was It Possible That There Was Good, Too?

What Would A Racist Call Werewolves? Wargs? She Kind Of Liked That One, But Suspected That Racist Bastards Didn't Read Tolkien.

Don’t Fuss. I Love You Just As You Are, Mercy. I Don’t Need To Swallow You Whole, I Don’t Need To Be In Your Head At All Times. I Just Need To Know That You’re There.

Pack Is For Comfort When You Hurt, I Thought, Putting My Head Back Down. And For The First Time In A Long Time, Maybe The First Time Ever, I Appreciated Being A Part Of One.