She smacks my arm. “Quit freaking out. It’s an apple tree!” “Oh.” I rub my arm—not that it hurts. It’s just a reaction, I suppose. Until I was taken captive, no one’s ever taken to striking me as their personal hobby. I daresay it may be Aurora’s hobby. She’s flicked me, pinched my nares, and now this. Strange pleasure socks me harder than Aurora’s playful swipe when she reaches up, and rubs at the spot where she struck me. For a moment, nothing hurts on me, anywhere.
