Shirley

“Stop it!" I flail my arms between them. "Both of you. Lucien, this is Yorl. Yorl, this is Prince Lucien."

Yorl freezes as Lucien narrows his eyes further at him. "Your Highness? In that gaudy getup?" He pauses, looking down. "With pants that tight?"

"It's better than no pants at all," Lucien snarls. Yorl shifts in his robe, his barely formed hackles raising straight off his neck in a golden ridge.

"I'm not a naked ape," Yorl fires back, "who needs them to begin with!"

The competitive pride is so thick I can practically smell it. People are staring. I clap my hands as loud as I can, like I'm trying to break up a feral-dog fight.”
― Sara Wolf, Find Me Their Bones

“I began to understand that we were born in order to see and listen to the world. And that's all this world wants of us. It doesn't matter that I was never a teacher or a member of the workforce, my life had meaning.”
― Durian Sukegawa, Sweet Bean Paste

“I needed to let go of what I thought my life was supposed to look like in order to write a new story.”
― Vi Keeland, The Invitation

“As much as I hate to admit it, you did good work today," Yorl says in the doorway.

"Aw, I appreciate you, too." I reach to bop his black nose, but he lifts his chin out of the way.

"Don't."

I stamp my foot. "Why does everyone in this city hate fun?"

"Do you think a stranger sticking their fingers up your nose is fun?"

"Up your nose? Gross. I was just going to tap it. Who's been trying to stick their fingers up your nose?"

"The human children," he grumbles. "Every chance they get.”
― Sara Wolf, Find Me Their Bones