[Inside her, in her green-knotted bones where she is treesap young in the way they aren't here there is the knowledge to unmake her shape. To slough off this skin, to become another form the way they were in the chaos times.

How much easier to speak with one who understands the shape of her words. To hold out a truth in the cold light for what it is and hear someone understand.]

Once there was war. To the dovah, power is truth so when they ruled men their power over them was absolute. Not to be disputed. It's my will too that I have to fight same as a starved hound, beating it down before it tears at me.

They did it with shouts. With a voice. And then other voices taught the way of it to Men to banish him through time and I cannot trust the Wardens when I know. When I am.