From Griffonne

Tipingee stood a minute to enjoy the sight of Mer laughing, laughing as she watched Oreste and Belle dancing the Kalenda, twitching their shoulders at each other, making eyes. Mer didn't laugh much. This one day each year, when the blans were feasting the birth of their god, they let the Ginen rest, let them have some little joy. A few times today she and Mer had hid behind the cabins and Mer had smiled for her, put her lips in between Tipingee's and chortled sweet pleasure into them. The taste of Mer's mouth had danced in Tipingee's like the Kalenda. The Christmas sun was hot, the music nice, and the smell of the sweet potatoes that Papa Kofi was roasting in the fire nearby was making Tipingee's belly rumble

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