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“Sometimes things have a place,” she said. “They belong in their place; they fall into the same arrangement, time after time.” She paused. “It’s like when your pack settles on your shoulder, or when you put a knife back in its sheath. At night, a wherry returns to its bed. Do you know what I mean?”
Selena felt frustrated. She understood what he was saying, that the wasteland was always dangerous, but he wasn’t even trying to understand the point she was trying to make.
“Stop it,” Selena said. “You can’t be strong all the time, or you won’t be strong when you need it most.”
