Jenny threw back her head and laughed, laughter that rang out through the leaves if the oak tree above them. Jack pulled her to him, to kiss her and whisper her name again. And the oak tree above them whispered back, of love and sacrifice, of a king and a queen, and a future made anew.
Ruth Frances LongThey're only trees. Only trees. Whose afraid of lonely trees?
Ruth Frances LongTags: trees poems jack jenny realm calming-the-mind
Every game has its Jacks,' she said, the sadness of it pulling down the elation of sudden understanding. 'The thing that acts as a wild card. It can't be counted on or predicted. A weapon, even. But he's in other places, too, isn't he? And do you know what else a Jack is, Puck?...I do.
Ruth Frances LongTags: tricks riddles jenny puck wren jack-o-the-forest
She was talking to a tree. Just talking to a tree. Totally normal. People probably did it every day here. They're only trees. She fought an insane urge to laugh.
Ruth Frances LongTags: trees insane talking jenny realm jack-o-the-forest
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