Is it because I'm a girl?"Reluctantly, Bill nodded his head.She looked at him for a moment, her lips trembling, and Richie thought she would cry. Instead, she exploded. "Well, fuck you!" She whirled around to look at the others, and they flinched from her gaze, so hot it was nearly radioactive. "Fuck all of you if you think the same thing!" she turned back to Bill and began to talk fast, rapping him with words. "This is something more than some diddly shit kids game like tag, or guns, or hide and go seek, and you know it, Bill! We're supposed to do this, that's part of it! And you're not going to cut me out just because I'm a girl, do you understand? You better. Or I'm leaving right now!

stop now before i kill youa word to the wise from your friendPENNYWISE

You will look young when you feel young, but to simply feel that you are young will not always cause you to feel young. The real feeling of youth comes when we actually think in the consciousness of youth and give the realization of the now to every thought.

Female say Pack Leader stop,_ Pack Leader said angrily.__hat?_ Caine could make no sense of it till he saw Diana striding up, dark hair flying, eyes furious.__ told this filthy beast to stop,_ Diana said, barely controlled.__top what?_ Caine demanded.__hey__e still attacking the kids,_ Diana said. __e__e won. Sam is dead. Call them off, Caine.__aine turned his attention back to the battle between Drake and the monster. __hey__e coyotes,_ Caine said coldly.Diana flew at him. __ou__e lost your mind, Caine. This has to stop. You__e won. This has to stop.___r what, Diana? Or what?_ Caine demanded. __o get Lana. I__ hurt. Pack Leader, do what you want.___aybe this is why your mother abandoned you,_ Diana said savagely. __aybe she could see that you weren__ just bad, you were twisted and sick and evil.

That was how evil magnified itself: it took root in the young and grew along with them.

Fate is a woman, I said to them. In fact, she is three women. Young, like us, so that they will have the courage to be cruel, having no weight of memory to teach temperance. Young, but so old, older than any stone. Their hair is silver, but full and long. Their eyes are black. But when they are at their work they become dogs, wolves, for they are hounds of death, and also hounds of joy. They take the strands of life in their jaws, and sometimes they are careful with their jagged teeth, and sometimes they are not. They gallop around a great monolith, the stone that pierces our Sphere where the meridians meet, that turns the Earth and pins it in place in the world. It is called the Spindle of Necessity, and all round it the wolves of fate run, and run, and run, and the patterns of their winding are the patterns of the world. Nothing can occur without them, but they take no sides. I could also say that there is such a stone, such a place, but the dogs who are women died long ago, and left the strands to fall, and we have been helpless ever since. That in a wolfless world we must find our own way. That is more comforting to me. I want my own way, I want to falter; I want to fail, and I want to be redeemed. All these things I want to spool out from the spindle that is me, not the spindle of the world. But I have heard both tales.