Snippet Game - If it cost a fortune

Okay, the rules: don't post twice in a row, don't post the same author you used last time, keep your snippets under 200 words (shorter is fine), and give proper credit.

The theme for this game thread is giving gifts, and the thread title is from Dickens (see below).

The first snippet (and the inspiration for the theme) is by @oldstick (moved here by me from another thread):

Christmas, for the ladies, is rough - but, please, no bitchin'
Things might improve when you escape the kitchen.
You might just find, under the tree, by the fire
Is a Christmas gift you really did desire.

If not, then, we tried -not to become deranged,
We bought you a gift that is easily exchanged!
We know from your 'signals' that all along
A simple male could easily get it wrong!

Women and shopping, it's really no joke
Why can't they shop like any fair bloke?
Shopping with them can make a guardsman cry
Fluttering from shop to shop like a butterfly!

Going shopping for them is really a task,
It has to be guessed, they won't say or ask!
If it's not what you wanted or would choose,
I humbly submit - we don't understand clues!

Ben Round. ( from 'Honey and Humbug)

(No touchstone available, alas. Oldstick, do you have a copy of this one you could add to your library, so that it's in the LT system? If you add it to LT, let me know, and I'll create a touchstone for it here.)

And here's one from me:

"...He has spent but a few pounds of your mortal money -- three or four, perhaps. Is that so much that he deserves this praise?"
"It isn't that," said Scrooge, heated by the remark, and speaking unconsciously like his former, not his latter, self. "It isn't that, Spirit. He has the power to render us happy or unhappy -- to make our service light or burdensome, a pleasure or a toil. Say that his power lies in words and looks; in things so slight and insignificant that it is impossible to add and count 'em up -- what then? The happiness he gives is quite as great as if it cost a fortune."

--from A Christmas Carol, by Charles Dickens

I like the idea of this game! I read mostly fantasy, so that's where my snippets will be coming from. I really like this one:

"Phedre." There was a mix of resignation and genuine affection in Nicola's voice. "Much as I would enjoy it, I never expected you to turn up on my doorstep on a pleasure-jaunt. I know what you are. I've known from the beginning, Kushiel's Chosen. It is folly, to make claim on one whom the gods have marked for their own. And unlike the others, I am no fool, to grasp at that which burns to the touch. What you have given..." she raised one hand, palm upward, the garnet seal dangling at her wrist, "... I hold in an open hand."
It reminded me of Emile, closing his fist in the Cockerel; it reminded me of Hyacinthe's vision of Kushiel, holding a key and a diamond in his grasp. It reminded me that I had known too few people in my life with the courage and wisdom to hold that which they valued in an open hand.


--from Kushiel's avatar by Jacqueline Carey (chapter 20)

Nice one, zjakkelien! Thanks for joining in.

A gift gone wrong from one of my own stories...

"You were trying to give my brother a sword...." I turned and looked at Vanitri. “I don't suppose you bothered to take a look at the blade before you threw it back in his face?”
“No,” Van growled. “Why?”
“I destroyed it while cutting through an iron cable. It's not just a ceremonial weapon, it's practically a weapon-in-name-only. He couldn't possibly have wanted you to cut people up with it.”
“What the hell did he give it to me for, then?”
Chunru sighed. “In Changali, for a warrior to give another man a weapon, is to say ‘I trust you with my life’

--from Serendipity's Tide, by L. Shelby

My snippets will also be coming predominantly from fantasy, zjakkelien. This one isn't, but it's scifi so it's still specfic. ^-~

I'd imagine the challenge is going to be a bit more difficult for me than I thought too, but we'll see how it goes. ^-^

“Open it, Steel, please!”

Touched, Alysha took the package and slit the paper with her barely extended claws. A pillow nestled in the tissue, made of gold velveteen painstakingly hand-sewn with glistening white thread. Misplaced stitches formed a random pattern along its edges, and a misshapen knot marked the hole that had been left open to stuff the pillow. Golden tassels had been sewn onto the four corners. Alysha almost didn’t smell the delicious, subtle scent that wafted from it over her own sweat. Gentle pressure revealed it to be surprisingly soft.

“Rispa! You didn’t make this yourself, did you?”

Rispa nodded proudly, then examined Alysha’s face. “Do you like it?”

“It’s wonderful,” Alysha answered. She imagined the young foxine sitting on her favorite ottoman, the broad round one, concentrating with furrowed brows as she plucked at the needle.

Reassured, Rispa said, “I stuffed it with my own fur, just like the Hinichi do. I read about them in the stories you lent me on your tablet.”

“Your own fur!”

from Alysha's Fall by M.C.A. Hogarth

Nice!

I cannot help this one:

Mr Malfoy ripped the sock of the diary, threw it aside, then looked furiously from the ruined book to Harry. 'You'll meet the same sticky end as your parents one of these days, Harry Potter,' he said softly. 'They were meddlesome fools, too.'
He turned to go.
'Come Dobby. I said, Come!'
But Dobby didn't move. He was holding up Harry's disgusting, slimy sock, and looking at it as though it was a priceless treasure.
'Master has given Dobby a sock,' said the elf in wonderment. 'Master gave it to Dobby.'

from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets by J.K. Rowling

I actually read more fantasy than anything else, but in the interest of keeping things varied:

"...If you can sit in those skin-tight breeches, or pantaloons, or whatever you call 'em, do so!"
"Oh, yes, I can sit down!" said Mr. Beaumaris, disposing himself in a chair opposite to hers. "My pantaloons, like Aunt Caroline's gifts to the poor, are knitted, and so adapt themselves reasonably well to my wishes."
"Ha! Then I'll tell Caroline to knit you a pair for Christmas. That'll set her into hysterics, for a bigger prude I never met!"
"Very likely, ma'am, but as I'm sure that my aunt would obey you, however much her modesty was offended, I must ask you to refrain. The embroidered slippers which reached me last Christmas tried me high enough. I wonder what she thought I should do with them?"
The Duchess gave a cackle of laughter. "Lord bless you, she don't think!..."

from Arabella by Georgette Heyer

I found one outside of fantasy as well, but then I liked this one better anyway... Perhaps the next one...

He picked up a twig and turned it over in his hands, looking carefully at it. Then he wrapped several strands of dry grass around it and studied it again until he had what he wanted to do firmly in his mind. When he released his will on it, he did not do it all at once, so the change was gradual. Adara's eyes widened as the sorry-looking clump of twig and dry grass was transmuted before her.
It really wasn't much of a flower. It was a kind of pale lavender color, and it was distinctly lopsided. It was quite small, and its petals were not very firmly attached. Its fragrance, however, was sweet with all the promise of summer. Garion felt very strange as he wordlessly handed the flower to his cousin. The sound of it had not been that rushing noise he'd always associated with sorcery, but rather was very much like the bell-tone he'd heard in the glowing cave when he'd given life to the colt. And when he had begun to focus his will, he had not drawn anything from his surrounding. It had all come from within him, and there had been a deep and peculiar joy in it.

-- from Castle of wizardry by David Eddings

:)

"Are you evicting us?" the Ice King inquired, apparently amused.
"Why would I wish to do that?" Asond asked. "I think I shall merely demand rent -- that's fair enough."
"I've already given you a kingly gift."
"You mean the spear," Asond responded flatly.
"Indeed, what else?"
"I would feel more indebted to you for the gift, if you hadn't seemed so relieved to have me accept it. How am I to know it isn't cursed?"
"Cursed?" Both of the Ice King's eyebrows shot up. "It's one of the Weapons of Power."
Asond did not seem to be impressed by this claim. "And...?"
The corners of the Ice King's mouth quirked upwards. "It has a prophecy attached to it. I was afraid my son would remember that fact, and decide to go questing."

-- from Talking With Winds, by L. Shelby

Very soon , they had managed to decorate the tree with everything from woollen balls to paper streamers and painted fir cones. There were also a few bits and pieces from previous Christmases- a little fairy doll to go on top of the tree, and some coloured cards that hung down and twirled in the breeze or if you blew on them. Then, by the time they had all finished, the stocking was full and looked like some lumpy old tree trunk with all the mysteries that had been put inside.
There were some sweets from Lily and Rose's rations, a big red apple from Gabriel's tree and a pear from the same source. The fruit had been wrapped in newspaper and kept in the dark and cold so that it was still usable since being picked many weeks earlier. Also, there was a wooden doll and a toy which, if you squeezed the bottom, it would dance.

from "Granddad's Rainbow" by Joan Blackburn - 'The adventures of a war baby 1939-51.'

"Listen, I don't think your mother wants you stealing things, even if you're doing it for her."
He didn't move or let go of the lump under his jacket. I'd either have to call security or wrestle the shoes away from him myself, and suddenly I knew I couldn't do either. I bent down closer to his eye level. "What's your name?"
"Reese," he said.
"Look, Reese, if you want to earn those shoes, I'll buy them for you."
His gaze shot up to my face, the tears at once stopping. "How would I earn them?"
Yes, how? I glanced around the department store in search of something for him to do, but there wasn't anything. I mean, if I made him squirt perfume on people with me, both of us would get in trouble. "Um, you could pick up trash from inside the mall and put it into garbage cans."
"And then you'll by the shoes for me?"
"Right."

-- from It's a Mall World World After All, by Janette Rallison

I'll leave the previous post where it as and try to unstar it as I meant to carry on here - but where is everybody? New snippet follows.

Three days ago Henry had bought lot number four, a group of three slaves and the boy had been one of them. Elias took the bread in his hands and ate, and in between bites, the boy put the cup to his lips and he drank.
"My name's Luke," he said when there was no more water.
"I know," Elias said, looking at a fly alight on his hand and edge toward the bread. The boy smiled and turned the cup upside down and shook it. "I know." The boy stood and ran out and returned quickly with more water. He sat before Elias and since the bread was gone, Elias held the cup in his hands. "You want some more hoe cake?" Luke said. "I know a song bout Jesus, I can sing it." Elias shook his head again. Moffat, Sunday after Sunday, had but one theme-that heaven was nearer than anyone realized and that one step away from the righteous path could take heaven away for ever.

The Known World by Edward P Jones.

This is a little different take maybe on gift giving but I think it fits. Here's half of a poem I wrote called "Here's to My Blossoms"

...
Let's see what happens, what I do
Because when it's out, it's there
Who knows maybe it'll go everywhere
Most hoped to be somewhere
Not professing to be any more than me
But if there's some pieces you can gather
From my scattering of seeds
Then I hope to help your garden grow,
I'll be pleased
And thank God for all that's been given to me.
I've been given a seed and I'm gonna plant it
When it blossoms, you'll see it cuz I'll share it.

"Here's to My Blossoms" from the collection "That Which Lives Within"
by eLPy

At this time of day the breeze was weak, and the air stood thickly so the scent of blossoms hung like a fog about the inlaid brass railing. Isde Ikhsior ignored the richness of the perfume and, as was his custom, strolled to the west-most end of the balcony. There he pointed the larger end of the tubes at the sparkling bay, where a weathered two-man fishing-canoe with a streaky dun-colored sail sat motionless on the water. Being a man of high bearing, he did not jump when he finally looked through the device, nor did he utter anything about Nil’s anatomy. “Every line!” he exclaimed, collectedly. “Every spar. And the knots that they use to secure the raordi canopies into place.”
He pulled the naglagati reluctantly away from his eye, and held it before him, as he turned to face the romheli. “This... naglagati, is a gifting for me?”

-- from Cantata in Coral and Ivory by L. Shelby

*bounces* Oh! I remember that setting, LShelby! Not this scene because it's a different book, but. Eeeee!

This one's a bit different and might benefit from more context, but I think it still fits and works.

Our one small attendant left, a gift from the Lord of the Radch clutched in one hand—a pin in the shape of a four-petaled flower, each petal holding an enameled image of one of the four Emanations. Anywhere else, a Radchaai who received one would treasure it, and wear it nearly constantly, a badge of having served in the temple with the Lord of the Radch herself. This child would probably toss it in a box and forget about it. When she was out of sight (of Lieutenant Awn and the Lord of the Radch, if not of me) Anaander Mianaai turned to Lieutenant Awn and said, “Aren’t those weeds?”

A wave of embarrassment overcame Lieutenant Awn, mixed a moment later with disappointment, and an intense anger I had never seen in her before. “Not to the children, my lord.” She was unable to keep the edge out of her voice completely.

from Ancillary Justice by Ann Leckie

I like it, @lynnoconnacht!

I've given up on posting a none-fantasy one. I read fantasy, so that's what it's going to be...

Even before she looked, Kim knew that her hair was white. Lying in bed that first morning she cried, though silently and not for long. There was much to be done. Even with the vellin on her wrist, she felt the day like a fever. She would be unworthy of the gift if she were undone by mourning.
So she rose up, Seer of Brennin, newest dreamer of the dream, to begin what Ysanne had died to allow her to do.
More than died.
There are kinds of action, for good or ill, that lie so far outside the boundaries of normal behaviour that they force us, in acknowledging that they have occurred, to restructure our own understanding of reality. We have to make room for them.
This, Kim thought, is what Ysanne had done. With an act of love so great - and not just for her - it could scarcely be assimilated, she had stripped her soul of any place it held in time. She was gone, utterly. Not just from life, but more, much more, as Kim now knew - from death as well; from what lay after in the patterns of the Weaver for his children.
Instead, the seer had given all she could to Kim, had given all.

from The summer tree by Guy Gavriel Kay (chapter 9)

I hesitated for a moment to pick this one, or a snippet a page earlier, where the knife that Ysanne uses to give her soul to Kim is explained, but in the end, I liked this one better. I love GGK's writing style, but the way he doles out information bit by bit makes picking snippets a bit difficult...

Yay. ^-^ It's one of the most powerful moments in the book for me.

The one you picked is incredibly powerful, zjakkelien. I'm pretty sure I prefer this one too because it makes me want to reread the books.

Here's one from a friend's book:

He didn’t believe in plans, but he believed in having a direction. A starting point. An idea. And weren’t youngest sons supposed to have things laid out in front of them? “I don’t suppose any strangers on the way to the castle gave you any advice? Or magical items?”

“Ha, I wish. No. Well, there was the old man, but other than him, no.”

“What old man?” Tom asked, barely before Jasper could.

“I don’t know, some old beggar. Touched in the head. He gave me this.” Randolph reached back into one pocket of his pack, pulling out a compass. “Useless, though. Forgot about it, or I would have thrown it out by now.” He tossed it to Jasper.
He studied the compass a moment, Tom peering over his shoulder. “This is pointing southwest.” Jasper tilted the compass and watched the needle waver.

“See what I mean? Doesn’t even work.”

That was when Jasper decided that Fate, Destiny, and Randolph obviously needed help. “Did it occur to you that it might be a magical compass? Pointing toward the goal of your quest?”

from The Wanderers by Cheryl Mahoney (can't get the touchstone to work for it, though. Help?)

Haha, I like it, particularly the last paragraph... Let's see, I can't get the touchstone to work either. There is a record of the book, but for some reason, it doesn't appear in the list at 'others'.

edit: Managed it: The wanderers
I don't know why it doesn't work automatically, but it explains here how to force the touchstone.

Touchstone! Thank you! And thank you for explaining, zjakkelien. I think it's not working automatically because there are quite a few books with a similar title? I'm pretty sure it worked on another thread a while ago, though. *checks* Yes. I linked in another thread and the touchstone showed up fine.

I had a lot of fun with the book when I read it. ^-^ (And yay on remembering a couple of snippets to share again!)

16: I'm pretty sure I prefer this one too because it makes me want to reread the books.
Yeah, me too!

I found another one this afternoon, in the book I'm currently reading. SF this time:

Her concentration wavered. Every time she shuddered, the force of her contracting muscles ground the teeth of that lower jaw deeper into her shoulder blade. Ia struggled to remember what she was supposed to be doing.
"We have... thirty-eight injured on board this vessel. I repeat, I am... dock at Krrim Rau 17, and... need grappling." Nausea welled up, threatening to escape her throat in a most unpleasant manner. She swallowed, panting. "I... don't feel so good..."
"Lieutenant, hang in there!" she heard Viega order. "You dock that ship, Lieutenant Ia! You hear me? That's an order, sailor!"
A hand cupped her forehead. It was the V'Dan male, offering her a very precious, very intimate gift. (Take my energy; I offer it freely. If you're strong enough to do everything you just did for us,) he told her (then I know you can take it and use it - take it! I'm Pathic, not Kinetic. It's a Saints-damned Salik ship. I can't fly this thing for you!)

from An officer's duty by Jean Johnson (chapter 19).

I really like these books, even thought the main character is highly precognitive, and therefore always know what to do. I suppose it takes away some of the excitement, but perhaps that's part of its charms: it's a comfortable book to read... But perhaps that's better saved for another thread.

"The New Testament informs the reader that it is more blessed to give than to receive. I have found that among its other benefits, giving liberates the soul of the giver. The size and substance of the gift should be important to the recipient, but not to the donor save that the best thing one can give is that which is appreciated. The giver is as enriched as is the recipient, and more important, that intangible but very real psychic force of good in the world is increased."

- Maya Angelou, "Wouldn't Take Nothing For
My Journey Now"

"Balloon?" said Eeyeore. "You did say balloon? One of those big coloured things you blow up? Gaiety, song and dance, here we are and there we are?"
"Yes, but I'm afraid - I'm very sorry, Eeyore - but when I was running along to bring it to you, I fell down."
"Dear, dear, how unlucky! You ran too fast, I expect. You didn't hurt yourself, little Piglet?"
" No, but I - I - oh, Eeyore, I burst the balloon!"
There was a very long silence.
"My balloon?" said Eeyore, at last.
Piglet nodded.
"My birthday balloon?"
"Yes, Eeyore," said Piglet, sniffing a little. "Here it is. With - many happy returns of the day." And he gave Eeyore the small piece of damp rag.
"Is this it?" said Eeyore. "You don't mind my asking," he went on,"but what colour was this balloon - when it was a balloon?"
"Red."
"I just wondered...Red," he murmured to himself."My favourite colour...How big was it?"
"About as big as me."
"I just wondered....About as big as Piglet," he said to himself , sadly. "My favourite size. Well,well."

Winnie the Pooh. A.A.Milne.

Nice, everyone! This one is again from The summer tree:

And in that moment it seemed to him as if he heard a voice, in the sky, in the wood, in the running of his own moon-coloured blood, and the voice spoke so that all the trees vibrated like living wands to the sound:
It was not so, will not have been so.
And when the reverberations ceased, Paul was on the highway again, Rachel with him in the rain. And once more he saw the Mazda blow and skid into the Ford. He saw the spinning, impossible obstruction.
He saw twelve inches clearance on the left.
But Dana was with him now, the Goddess, taking him there to truth. And in a crescendo, a heart-searing blaze of final dispensation, he saw that he had missed the gap, and only just, oh, only just, not because of any hesitation shaped by lack of desire, by death or murder wish, but because, in the end, he was human. Oh, Lady, he was. Only, only human, and he missed because of hurt, grief, shock, and rain. Because of these, which could be forgiven.
And were, he understood. Truly, truly were.
Deny not your own mortality. The voice was within him like a wind, one of her voices, only one, he knew, and in the sound was love, he was loved. You failed because humans fail. It is a gift as much as anything else.

from The summer tree by Guy Gavriel Kay (chapter 9)

After the last snippet I posted from this book, I remembered a few more instances around giving gifts, and I looked a few up. I really like this one, because the gift is double: I remembered it because the revelation Paul has is a gift from the Goddess. I didn't remember that she made this remark about making mistakes being a gift.

14> :) Yep, that's from my other "Coral Palace" book, I'm delighted you recognized it, lynnoconnacht.

14-22 > O.O Oh, wow! What happened? I get busy for a couple of days, and... Philosophy and Winnie the Pooh, and some great fantasy/sf stuff. Squee!

::clears throat:: My "and now for something very different" snippet isn't looking quite so exotic anymore, but I guess I'll post it anyway:

The Colonel's son a pistol drew and held it muzzle-end,
"Ye have taken the one from a foe," said he; "will ye take the mate from a friend?"
"A gift for a gift," said Kamal straight; "a limb for the risk of a limb.
Thy father has sent his son to me, I'll send my son to him."
With that he whistled his only son, that dropped from a mountain crest--
He trod on the ling like a buck in the spring, and he looked like a lance at rest.
"Now here is they master," Kamal said, "who leads a troop of the Guides,
And thou must ride at his left side as shield on the shoulder rides.
Till Death or I cut loose the tie, at camp and board and bed,
Thy life is his -- thy fate it is to guard him with thy head.
So thou must eat the White Queen's meat, and all her foes are thine,
And thou must harry thy father's hold for the peace of the Border-line"

-- from The Ballad of East and West by Rudyard Kipling

#23 I had a lot of fun with it, LShelby!

I think something utterly non-sff related is plenty exotic, We've had a fair few posts of sff quotes already. And I'm about to add another. ^-~ I think the non-sff is in the minority. I should probably poke some of my poetry collections for ideas myself.

“Don’t take any needless risks. Keep moving. Watch for spies. Don’t trust anywhere that’s too quiet.”

“I know,” she said impatiently, and then sighed and slid something off her finger to offer to him. “You should take this back.”

It was the engagement ring he’d given her two years ago, an opalescent black lodestar, polished to a sheen brighter than jet and shimmering with rainbows in the sunlight. He closed his hand against it. “It’s yours.”

“I can’t promise to come back.”

“It’s still yours.”

She kissed his cheek lightly, her eyes bright, and then said quietly, “It’s too unique. I’ll be passing as a country girl.”

He took it then, but fumbled the dagger off his belt to give to her instead. It was a good piece, which had saved his life more than once, and it was completely plain and functional. She fixed it on her belt and then swung into the saddle. Leaning down, she commanded, “Marry someone sweet.”

from The Lodestar of Ys by Amy Rae Durreson (chapter 2)

Christian: I wish I had your wit--

Cyrano: Borrow it, then! --
Your beautiful young manhood -- lend me that,
And we two make one hero of romance!

Christian: What?

Cyrano: Would you dare repeat to her the words
I gave you, day by day?

Christian: You mean?

Cyrano: I mean
Roxanne shall have no disillusionment!
Come, shall we win her both together? Take
The soul within this leathern jack of mine,
And breath it into you? (Touches him on the breast.) So -- there's my heart
Under your velvet, now!

Christian: I am afraid--

Cyrano: I know--
Afraid that when you have her all alone,
You lose all. Have no fear. It is yourself
She loves -- give her yourself put into words--
My words upon your lips!

-- from Cyrano de Bergerac by Edmond Rostand (Translated by Brian Hooker)

Wow oh wow, well I've got some non-sff for ya, I'll have to come back sooner to try and catch up with non-sff. :-)

"Or one meaning of here is 'In this world, in this life, on earth. In this place or position, indicating the presence of,' or in other words, I am here. It also means to hand something to somebody - Here you are. Here, he said to her. Here both recognizes and demands recognition. I see you, or here, he said to her. In order for something to be handed over a hand must extend and a hand must receive. We must both be here in this world in this life in this place indicating the presence of."

- by Claudia Rankine, from "Don't Let Me Be Lonely", taken from "American Hybrid: A Norton Anthology of New Poetry", edtd by Cole Swenson & David St. John

Cheers!
eLPy

Ooh, very nice, eLPy! :)

"And Jesus sat over against the treasury, and beheld how the people cast money into the treasury: and many that were rich cast in much. And there came a certain poor widow, and she threw in two mites, which make a farthing. And he called unto him his disciples, and saith unto them, Verily I say unto you, That this poor widow hath cast more in than all they which have cast into the treasury: For they did cast in of their abundance; but she of her want did cast in all that she had, even all her living."

-- Mark 12: 41-44, The Bible (King James Version)

I'm not sure how well this one stands without context, but I like it for all the ways in which it asks you to fill in the blanks yourself all the same.

“Wait, please,” she says suddenly, and is hurrying back up the walk and into the main house. The door has been draped with a white sheet to signify a death. There is a small bell beside it, on the left side.

She goes to the altar and takes something and goes back out. The sky is clear. The wind has died down, is only a mild susurration in the trees by the path. She sees the evening star.

She comes up to Ziji beside his horse. “Give this to him,” she says. “Tell him it was my mother’s. The other is on the altar here, in memory of my parents. Let him have this from me.”

He looks at the lapis earring, then at her, then briefly at Lu Chao, standing there.

He says, “Of course.” And then, after another pause, clearing his throat, he adds, “Lady Lin, he is a soldier. None of us can—”

“I know this,” she says briskly. She is afraid she’s going to cry again. “Guard yourself, commander. We need you very much.”

from River of Stars by Guy Gavriel Kay

The liquorice root has become yellow and stringy,and it hardly has any taste left,but they keep on chewing it. It's good to have something in your mouth.There are three things which she can give to Kolya when he cries with hunger and there is no food. One is the liquorice root. The second is a strip cut from an old leather school-bag. Anna has already boiled the leather for stock, but the softened , chewy strips that remain seem to comfort Kolya, and perhaps there is some goodness in them. The last thing she offers, when everything else has failed,is her own finger.He sucks it, clutching her hand with both his hands, and sometimes he goes to sleep.

The Siege by Helen Dunmore.

Nice one, oldstick!

In the book I was reading today there was an orphaned elephant named "Gift" and I couldn't help but to cross my fingers...

From the porch we watched the two little elephants leave the camp and wander along the river. Four years later Gift presented another calf, which we named Gem. She had no family, so she was starting her own. Gift turned out to be appropriately named, for she taught us more about the altered reproductive biology of North Luangwa elephants than did any other elephant. Perhaps her early motherhood was unconventional in elephant society, but it was the only hope for the elephants of Luangwa to recover. Little by little, "panono, panono," one elephant at a time, the great herds may return.
By nature, Nature gives.

From Secrets of the Savanna: Twenty-three years in the African Wilderness Unraveling the Mysteries of Elephants and People by Mark and Delia Owens