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...and when I lift my head to scream out my fury, a million stars turn black and die. No one can see them, but they are my tears.

N.K. Jemisin

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N.K. Jemisin
Turns
Lifts
Black
Million
Tears
Turn
Millions
Head
Fury
Stars
Lift
Dies
Scream

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There is no logic to grief.
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It was very bad if the council had resorted to recruiting men. By tradition men were our last line of defence, their physical strength bent towards the single and most important task of protecting our homes and children. This meant the council had decided that our only defence was to defeat the enemy, period. Anything else meant the end of Darre.
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