She is a witch, and her voice is magical, he thought, and her voice throbbed in his ear. And he knew, beyond shade of doubt, that she sensed, as he sensed, that the man and the woman met each other.
"Hear me! I am Eros! I stamp upon the hills. I fill the wide valleys. The mares hear me; for they know me. The land is filled with fatness, and the sap is in the trees. It is the spring. The spring is mine. I am monarch of my kingdom of the spring. The mares remember my voice. Hear me! I am Eros. I stamp upon the hills, and the wide valleys are my heralds!"
That woman was no woman. She was a real child. And she was very wise. The look of her gray eyes gave the impression of poise and power. That was it--- strength!