“You couldn’t clip mine,” said Dori, a small challenge in the raised chin, and she found that she rather liked him knowing what she was, that he had made that connection of an angel come to human form. He didn’t recoil from her like people, and he wasn’t confounded by her. But he was comical in the way he spoke and so she played. “I could make you dance like a cartoon frog on a log. Hop on one foot and scratch your head. I could do that, if I wanted.” The words were petulant, but there wasn’t any trace of that in her face.