Leaving It came crackling over the hills, like an invisible fog. Movement without a body tired it, and it drifted very slowly. It wasn 't thinking now. It had been months since it had last thought, because the brain that was doing the thinking for it had died. They always died. So now it was naked again, and frightened. It could hide in one of the blobby white creatures that baa 'd nervously as it crawled over the turf. But they had useless brains, capable of thinking only about grass and making other things that went baa. No. They would not do. It needed, needed something better, a strong mind, a mind with power, a mind that could keep it safe. It searched . . . The new boots were all wrong. They were stiff and shiny. Shiny boots! That was disgraceful. Clean boots, that was different. There was nothing wrong with putting a bit of a polish on boots to keep the wet out. But boots had to work for a living. They shouldn't shine. Tiffany Aching, standing on the rug in her bedroom, shook her head. She'd have to scuff the things as soon as possible. Then there was the new straw hat, with a ribbon on it. She had some doubts about that, too. She tried to look at herself in the mirror, which wasn't easy because the mirror was not much bigger than her hand, and cracked and blotchy. She had to move it