What? Have you decided your Coolest in Town moment?
That night, lying tenderly beside him by the fire, she was a babe, a child, an innocent. The reeds rubbed against each other and sang her a song. Lapped in his fur, she was wrapped in a basket and caressed by little waves. She smelled moss and clean northern flowers. The pebbles in the night water gleamed with a beauty that was their own value, not a jeweller´s. (Bear, Chap. XXII, p. 117)
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