Every new moon, he'd- well, his spirit would show up at the school ant talk to me about- well, anything I wanted to talk about. [Those visits were treasured, even though it meant sneaking into the library once a month- and not being able to tell most of her friends and teachers about it.]

But he'd visit physically twice a year.

I don't know enough of the marks to make a new one- but it's simple enough to fly one already made. [The extra weight of the carcass makes it harder, but mark after glowing mark slips out of Sabriel's mouth as she whistles, twisting and fading into the wind. With each mark, the wind intensified, until finally the Paperwing seemed to fling itself into the air.

It wasn't as steady, or as high as it should have been but it was steady enough, and Sabriel whistled, adding more wind- though not enough that she'd lose control and create a storm.]