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A good huntress respected her partners instincts, even if he was socially ignorant.

Ann Aguirre

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Ann Aguirre
Age: 54
Born: 1970
Born: August 27
Author
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
the United States of America
Ellen Connor
Ava Gray
Ignorant
Instinct
Even
Good
Huntress
Socially
Instincts
Respected
Partners

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I don’t like anyone knowing anything about me that I didn’t choose to tell them.
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There are quiet ways to die where the body just doesn’t notice that the heart is gone.
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Here in the enclave, one didn't prosper by demonstrating too much independent thought.
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I swept down the stairs to find Fade waiting for me at the bottom. His dark eyes widened, and for the first time since I'd known him, he was speechless. He stared up at me like I was everything he ever wanted.
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I have had passionate kisses and fierce ones, kisses so sweet they tasted like pure honey and kisses that cut like knives, but until this moment, I’ve never had one that said both hello and good-bye.
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Did he die well? No, I thought. Nobody did. They just died.
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Most people weren’t aware enough to fear the things that could really hurt them.
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Maybe I was just one of those people who couldn't rest easy unless things went catastrophically wrong.
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More than most, I know the pain of surviving.
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Love can make us do dreadful things.
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If there had been another female for him since we arrived in Salvation, I needed to cut off all her hair and beat her half to death. The strength of that impulse scared me, and I took a step back. Deuce the girl was every bit as vicious as the Huntress, it seemed
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I found it curious that people kept animals for companionship and not food. When I'd asked Mama Oaks when she planned to cook the fat creature that slept in a basket in the kitchen, her eyes almost popped out of her head. Since then, she'd kept her pet away from me, like she suspected I meant to turn it into stew. Clearly, I had a lot to learn.
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You could miss someone, but it did no good to fixate on loss. I wished I had the ready words of a Breeder or the ability to comfort with a soft touch. I didn't. Instead I had daggers and determination. That would have to do.
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I know you have bad news,” I say softly. “I’m ready for it.” But that’s not true. One is never ready. You just lie and say you are and hope you can take the hit on the chin without going down.
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Right now, I wish I’d stayed because I want you at my side. That sounds pretty selfish, but I don’t mean it that way. You just never needed me that way I said it to you once as I was leaving—that you love me, but you don’t need me. You don’t lean. But I admire that about you, and I could use some of your strength right now.
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I want to drag you off and hide you away,” he whispered. “Why?” “I always knew you were beautiful, but now everyone else will too. I won’t be able to keep other boys away from you, and it’ll make me crazy.
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A huntress never stabbed anything she didn't want to.
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After people have gone, you forget their faults, and you recall the ideal more than the person.
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We're broken in complementary ways, thus rendering our damage comprehensible to each other.
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His reply offers infinite solace in a single word. Always.
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