Feral Creatures (Hollow Kingdom #2)

by Kira Jane Buxton

Sometimes I think we look so hard for companionship, we don’t see that we’ve had it all along.

Grief can slam into you like a well-waxed window. But it means the ones you love aren’t lost or forgotten. They’ve made a home in your heart, which is the most permanent place of all.

Please. She is good inside. My soul cannot fly without her.” “And that is why we came. Because your love for her is the loudest sound in the ocean.”

The jungle is a living thing with hot lungs, an eternal row of fangs.

Death has eyes and ears and that smell—that sweet, sweet smell. It is, in all its shifting ways, utterly magnificent. And the best part about Death is that it is all of ours to share.

was experiencing acute déjà poo—the feeling that I’d heard this crap before.

Old Genghis had brought the hominids, the last of Dee’s kind. And realization struck me—she had not been truly alone in this world. Family had been here all along. And they’d come to help her.

Mother Nature is deliberate with her palette. When she paints you with unique colors, it’s because she trusts you can handle adversity and inspire others to greatness.

It’s not about how many sunrises we have but how much we fill them with fervor and flight.

Family doesn’t have to look like you; they can have feathers and scales and scutes. What matters is that you’re loved for who you are in your heart. We survive when we are seen.