Suddenly the words weren’t hers or Sewer Mouth’s, but Rachel’s. Rachel, having evolved from Sewer Mouth over a nine-year period, had finally been born at the second farmhouse, exactly what she would always remain; a fifteen-year-old with the knowledge of a whorehouse madam. Rachel conveyed her nature today without her usual sensuous movements; an acknowledgement, perhaps, that many in the Troop Formation considered her overt sensuality an affront. The woman sat there, hearing Rachel’s voice, young and very far away.
