But I'll be back. Would you like another candy heart before I go?" Do I dare?" I answered wryly.She brought a hand around in front of her and held som...thing towards me. "Oh, take a look," she said, smiling.Of course it was a candy heart. "Beg for it," it read.And then I was on my knees at her feet again, pleading with her. "Please? Please may I? Please?" Please what?" she asked teasingly."Please may I have..." I wasn't entirely sure what I was begging for, though whatever it was, I was suddenly. He heard the gurgle of a stream before he saw it. Small fish darted away as his bare feet slipped into the cool waters and smooth stones. The dirt on his feet began to wash away, and fish nipped at his toes, causing him to laugh at their ticklish touch. Tammet walked up the stream a short distance, its source a smooth glimmering pond. The edges of the pond were circled by bright flowers and more bees, butterflies and fairies. Along one side of the pond a small lawn was well manicured by. He was blown away when Mary came into our class, stripped off her clothes, and lay on the desk in front of the painting to pose.“As a thing is more perfect, the more it feels of pleasure and of pain,” she said. She maintained the pose through a thunderous round of applause and then grabbed her clothes and ran out of the room.“This is what we mean by the influence of Literature on the Arts,” Merck lectured. “It is not replicating a scene, but letting words flow through the artist to inspire. By traveling at night, Marcos matched them. Slowly they all closed in on the mountainous chaos lands.That night, as the band he tracked passed the last enclave in the are before entering the mountains, Marcos found a tree to sleep in before the sun came up.A sound below woke him up. Hastily climbing down the voices of a woman drew him. The orange light of the rising sun lit the treetops. Below the light, the skinny pines of the forest were cast in a weird yellow. The light might as well.