<blockquote>To spend a season in a place is not enough to turn it into a home. Some seasons last longer than others, but do not be deceived. Remember that, daughter-mine, when you level the lintels of whatever house you build someday, when you set a boat with sails or lay soft furs in the bottom of a deep dugout.
You were still a secret moon riding high in my belly when we came to Ksmal. The People of the Butterfly had lived in the valleygreen a hundred years before the war drove us out and into Ksmala arms, but a hundred years was not enough to make that place ours. Before that, our greatmothers and greatfathers sailed the broad seas for many years, when the land they once loved sank beneath the waves. Ksmal is not my home either, and it is not yours.</blockquote>
