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January 2, 2011
I finally undid the knot and untangled the rope from her angles. "I may be short," I said, "but I'm not a warrior. And I'm not brave, either."

My mother stretched her legs. She had better muscle definition in her calves than I did. Maybe better than Dad, even, and he was a runner. "There's one thing you'll learn with age, that being a brave warrior does not equal an absence of fear."

I stood up. "Doesn't matter. I'm not going to be a warrior, anyway."

She looked at me sternly. "For our sake, I hope that's not true."