"Yori kept one, too. Yori's became a study of him. She told him so. He was in metamorphosis, she said. She had never seen metamorphosis before, but she had heard it described. Already there were small, new sensory tentacles on his back, on his head, on his legs. His skin was gray now, and he was losing his hair. She said he must find a way to tell them if he wished to be touched. She said Tate was all right, and Akin must find a way to communicate. She said anything he asked would be done for him. She would see to it. She said he must not worry about him being alone because she would see that someone was always with him. This comforted him more than she could know."
Sometimes I just need someone to tell me all the things that they like about me. That I’m okay just being me. I don’t need to think twice about the way I speak, the way I laugh, the way I exist, or think, or involve myself in my surroundings. Tell me I can be loved like a plant by the window. That you can be happy just looking at that plant and that in some ways you can’t live without it.