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Quote by Stewart Stafford

“Season's Bleatings by Stewart Stafford I'm looking forward to Christmas, As Nostradamus dreaded prophecy, In place of war, famine, apocalypse, I see spending, coveting and family. Wandering through warm déjà vu, In new ways with usual-faced folk, Fat in an absent winter wonderland, Goodwill to all men as you go broke. A fever dream or a deep turkey coma? St. Nicholas dripping presents around? An eviction notice to vacate sobriety, Consumerism and consumption unbound. © Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.”

Quote by Stewart Stafford

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Stewart Stafford

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“While in my presence, you will refrain from using such words. You are a woman of intelligence with a vast vocabulary. Use it. Without cursing.” “But cursing is way more fun.” She blinked innocently. The need to mess with him was a deliciously overwhelming urge almost as great as those other urges. She was annoyed at him and herself. “It’s just so fucking great!”

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Book:The Scribemaster Chronicles
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“How was your trip?" Zeph asked. "Did they teach you how to hunt? You're growing up so fast." "I'm older than you," Xavi protested. "And I know how to hunt. This wasn't for beginners. I killed a snake!" Zeph stepped back and put on his surprised face for Xavi to see. "A real snake, not just a vine? Well, I guess you have your adult feathers now. What did you fall in? You're sticky." “It was a big snake. Like, bigger than three gryphons.” Xavi looked around for a gryphon to illustrate his point. Hatzel had glided down and was giving them a strange look. A tiny gryphlet bounded up to chirp at Hatzel and see if she wanted to play. While Xavi was trying to point at Hatzel, Zeph sat back on his haunches and measured out the size of the gryphlet from shoulder to shoulder, and expanded it by three. Xavi sighed. “No, like three Hatzels.” “Now you’re just telling tales,” Zeph protested. “Nothing as big as three Hatzels.” “This is why I throw rocks at you,” Hatzel said as she took the gryphlet back to the nests.”

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Book:Eyrie
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“I never wake up to find someone in my nest,” Hatzel complained. She began the grooming process, starting with her face. “That’s because you bite in your sleep,” Zeph remarked. She balked. “What? No, I don’t!” “It’s why we put Orlea’s sleeping nest closest to yours,” he explained. “She’s like a safe sleeping shield.” Hatzel did not dignify him with a response but instead returned to morning preening with redoubled efforts.”

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Book:Eyrie
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