“I’ve yet to comprehend why you’ve roused me so early, Bartholomew,” said the batlike gargoyle at my side. “You know I treasure my sleep. If I am rude the day through for exhaustion, I will not answer for it.” I’d snuck into his dwelling, put a hand on his shoulder, and shaken him awake. He’d screamed so loudly the shutters had trembled, the other gargoyles grunting and thrashing as I pulled him out the door.”
―
Rachel Gillig,
The Knight and the Moth
