“Have you been to any other parts of Kerch?” Miss Ghafa shakes her head. “Not yet. I want to, though,” she says wistfully. “I want to see the countryside here. Is it beautiful?” The curiosity in her voice warms him. People never want to hear about home. “I think it is,” he says. “Just now, the goldenrod is flowering, and the jewelweed is blooming along the canals. The geese will be flying south. The sky… it’s bigger there than in Ketterdam.” He’s not making sense. How can the sky be bigger? Miss Ghafa doesn’t look as though he’s talking nonsense, though. Instead, her face has a dreamy look, as if she’s trying to imagine it. “I’d like to see that,” she sighs. “I miss the sky in Ravka. It’s bigger, too.”
https://archiveofourown.org/works/73336356/chapters/197430026
