“...Stinky, you’re not being an adorable idiot, and it’s scary,” Luna whispered. “And attractive,” she read over the poem in the wall, and ‘you smell like roses’ in changeling. “There… is actually a pattern, and this actually looks like a language. It even matches the picture shown in the book… How… Do you write in your language? Or learn Equish perfectly if it’s not your second language?”