“Honey, some boys stopped by to see you. They had wood.”

“Fetch me the money box and some punkwood, will you, my boy?" Gannon asked him, licking the honey from his plate. (I fear table manners in the cabin-indeed, all manners-had suffered since Gannon and his son had been left to themselves.)”

“You can't see yourself all over. But I can. Part of you is honey, part of you is copper, some of you is gold--”

“Stopping by Woods on a Snowy EveningWhose woods these are I think I know.His house is in the village, though;He will not see me stopping hereTo watch his woods fill up with snow.My little horse must think it queerTo stop without a farmhouse nearBetween the woods and frozen lakeThe darkest evening of the year.He gives his harness bells a shakeTo ask if there is some mistake.The only other sound's the sweepOf easy wind and downy flake.The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,But I have promises to keep,And miles to go before I sleep,And miles to go before I sleep.”

“In the woods the three broken boys had bonded, bound together by punches they could not return. They survived together.”

“Stop it,” I smacked him. “What if that was some guy hitting on me? I swear you attract single females in a five mile radius like a fly to honey.” –Sophie to Caeden”