She was very intelligent, very smart. She knew what was real or not, at least to her. She knew that trees were real. Snow and rain and sleet were real. She knew, or thought, that magic was not.

I didn't want to write this but This is our story Well most of it at least All of our stories are engraved in ink On our wrist our story unfolds Now we all stumble through time, space, flight, in all different directions But in all the same tongue