author and triathleteDescription in Mira, Mirror
Description can be used in different ways:
1. To describe a person
On page 9, King Davit:
"Prince George could not remember seeing his father without the crown on his head, except perhaps in bed, and even then the imprint on his temples was clear enough . . . When King Davit spoke to Cook Elin, he always complimented her on how well suited her cheese was to her tart, how her salad reflected the colors of the autumn mountains in the distance. George had no idea if his father liked the flavor of the salad or the tart. He did not know if his father knew either. He knew only that the kind had a duty to offer approval to his subjects who strove to please him. Anhd the king always did his duty
On page 11, the queen:
"Yet George's mother, for all she wore long gowns with glittering jewels and even the fragile, ruby-encrusted crown on her head when she had to, seemed to be his mother no matter what else she was. For when she looked at George, whether she had come to his own chamber to play with him or held out her hand for him to meet her in the throne room, she had a way of making him feel complete in himself. And as though there were nothing that he could do that would make her turn away.
On page 18, Ivana:
"I saw the sun had risen to dapple the girl's face black and gold. Delicate and smooth underneath the grime, her features reminded me of the queen's when she had been young. The only difference was the uncertainty. The queen had never been uncertain."
On page 47:
"small gray rabbit born with a short hind leg."
On page 57, Sir Stephen:Tall, stern Sir Stephen beame George's tutor when he was eight years old. He had the king to advise, as was his official position, but when other tutors complained the prince was too stupid to learn properly, the king appointed Sir Stephen to take over the task.
On page 109, Beatrice:He stopped short at the sight of a woman with streaming red hair coming toward the castle with a wild hound at her side. If George was not mistaken, it wsa the same wild hound he had dreamed about the night before.
But who was the woman? Her face wore a strangely distant expression. There was some old hurt in her, but from the way she held her head, she seemed used to pride. Her clothing was as rumpled as George's. The dress was cut with feminine frills that seemed entirely out of place on her. Yet she was beautiful in a sharp and starling way.
[ . . .]
She was as tall as George, long and lean and muscular, with a regal neck and calloused tapering fingers. Her skin was badly freckled, but it complimented her flame red hair and her hazel eyes shone up at him.
On page 167, Lady Dulen:
She had a mole on her cheek and light-colored hair that was straightened back tightly to hide its natural curl.
2. To describe a feeling.
On page 37:
George went numb at the thought. It was too terrible to dwell on, so he pressed it out of his mind . . . He played wit his handmade creatures and kept to himself until that night, when the king entered without the customary knock, his face utterly changed.
Stricken. Panicked. Unsure.
On page 44:
He sat with his arms wrapped around his knees and his eyes wide open. He let the peace and quiet of the woods skin into him. This was how he had always felt wit his mother, a contentment that seemed to run as deep as his bones and his blood.
3. To describe a place.
On page 129:
Sarrey was a kingdom of few hills, with rivers and streams everywhere, crisscrossing fields and forests alike. It was lush with green this spring, the colors dazzling George's senses. He was sure that in colder, higher Kendel, some of those shades of green had never been seen at all.
It was a clear day, and the wind in George's face felt bracing. It seemed as though the chase would go on for a very long time, for the land itself stretched out toward the horizon forever.
On page 131: At first he could only hear his own heart beating. Then slowly he came to an awareness of the other underlying sounds all around him. The life of the woods.
George lifted his eyes to search the tree for signs of birds. There was a sparrow up above, circling her nest, and below that, a fox turning away as it realized that George was too big for its dinner. There were rabbits nearby that had frozen at the crash of horses but nor came hopping out, one young one leaping directly over George's knee."
4. To describe an object.
On page 93:
She laid out a series of small blown-glass figures in startlingly fine workmanship and color. There was a small, fierce-looking bear that made George's heart skip a beat, a hummingbird just the size of a real one, and a miniature hound that seemed to be running, its head up, its teeth showing in a wild grin, its eyes wide and blazing.
The hound was not at all like George's childhood pet. But there was something, not so much in the shape of its body as in the fierce expression of its face, that reminded George of what Teeth had been, at the very beginning. This was a true wild hound. And it was perfect.
[ . . .]
"It is fierce and real," said George. It weighed almost nothing in his hand, but when he held it up to the light, some trick of the color in the glass made it seem as though it were moving.
"Cost you too much, it will."
It was only after I touched the whorled wood against my skin, sensed the magic, bitter and smelling of old smoke, of death.
5. To describe an action.
On page 161:
George's first stroke was tentative.
King Helm countered with a wave of his staff that took the wooden sword right out of George's hands and left his arms stinging with the jolt of the blow.
George was winded, but King Helm looked as though he had just finished his dessert, a fluffy cream confection. And his smile was very satisfied.
"Try again," said King Helm smugly.
George scrambled to get his sword, and this time he put all the power he could into his blow.
King Helm merely turned aside, and the force of George's movement left him sprawling in the dirt.
George looked up to see a very broad smile on King Helm's face. He gritted his teeth and went at it again. And again.
Until the sweat streaming down his face had soaked through the padding on his extra tunic and his legs were trembling with exhaustion.
On page 332:
Her hands were held at waist level and she did not notice how the hair disappeared from their backs, or how the fingernails, pink and new, grew into perfect moon shapes above the tips of her fingers. She did not see how her feet shrank into the delicate skin that was then covered in the black, poorly shined boots that Beatrice had worn that morning.