The sea snatched the woman's bones from me—not for you, not for you—but I'm used to its tricks and I snatched them back, staring as they danced sun-white between my fingers. “You've taken enough from me,” I told the sea. “These I'll keep.” It responded in a sudden rise, rattling smooth stones in protest. It was ornery, I thought, but so was I, sun-hurt and salt-stung, and I wouldn’t be frightened off. I was quick to pick out the rest of her from the pebbled shore, marveling at what I’d found.
whoa! this is awesome emmy!!