“Lady," she whimpered softly, wondering if she would meet her wolf again when she was dead.”

“She had to work to find her outrage again. When she did, it was whimpering in delight.”

“She would wonder what had hurt her when she found her face wet with tears, and then would wonder how she could have been hurt without knowing it.”

“I would listen to her soft voice and wonder if, somewhere deep inside, she was screaming, too.”

“Leather cut into Usha's flesh and she screamed. She screamed for the soreness in her back, she screamed for the throbbing sensation in her soft belly, she screamed for the hope that was being lashed out of her; multiple screams for the first few lashings then whimpering as blinding pain clouded her head, numbness froze her body. Hope became hopeless. After twenty lashings even the whimpering stopped, only the nothingness of nothing remained.”

“When my daughter looks at me, she sees a small old lady. That is because she sees only with her outside eyes. She has no chuming , no inside knowing of things. If she had chuming, she would see a tiger lady. And she would have careful fear.”