If I was a book, I would like to be a library book, so I would be taken home by all different sorts of kids.
There was another reason [she] took her books whenever they went away. They were her home when she was somewhere strange. They were familiar voices, friends that never quarreled with her, clever, powerful friends -- daring and knowledgeable, tried and tested adventurers who had traveled far and wide. Her books cheered her up when she was sad and kept her from being bored.
Dustfinger closed his eyes and listened. He was home again.
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