"Let Harlequin be taken with a fit of the colic, and his trappings will have to serve that mood too."

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I started down but Sam caught my arm and knelt down himself to look. "For crying out loud," he said. "It's a racoon." "Poor thing," I said. "It could be a rabid baby-killer," Cole told me primly. "Shut up," Sam said pleasantly.

— Maggie Stiefvater