"Somehow, the dead don't seem to be very helpful beyond the grave," she said softly. "I don't know. Maybe I'm just stupid or blind or in denial. I just...it doesn't matter. We should probably get back to camp before Ari and Amy start wondering what happened to us."
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
James let out a quiet sigh and stood up, wiping off his pants. "We should," he said with a nod, thinking of the rumors they would easily start amongst themselves.
To be a master of metaphor is the greatest thing by far. It is the one thing that cannot be learnt from others, and it is also a sign of genius. — Aristotle, Poetics
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