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“…so what purpose is there to worry?” “It’s not as easy as that,” said Summer sadly. “I can’t stop myself from worrying.” “You’re human,” said Glorious. “Humans hoard up their fears as if the world might run out.” He huffed a laugh. “Still, you build cities with them—and towers and artworks and families and faiths. It seems to work for your people, even if it would not work for mine.” “I wish I was a wolf,” said Summer. “That is a very sensible wish,” said Glorious. “But even Baba Yaga cannot grant you that. So you will simply have to be a brave human.” — T. Kingfisher
…so what purpose is there to worry?”
“It’s not as easy as that,” said Summer sadly. “I can’t stop myself from worrying.”
“You’re human,” said Glorious. “Humans hoard up their fears as if the world might run out.” He huffed a laugh. “Still, you build cities with them—and towers and artworks and families and faiths. It seems to work for your people, even if it would not work for mine.”
“I wish I was a wolf,” said Summer.
“That is a very sensible wish,” said Glorious. “But even Baba Yaga cannot grant you that. So you will simply have to be a brave human.