I walked away from the fire and tore up green bracken, caw-cannying not to slash my fingers on stalks.

If he got flamed for his lies or his ignorance, he simply moved to another chat room.

He had accrued a good deal of left-handed Whuffie, and I curiously backtraced it to the occasion of my murder, when Debra's people had accorded him a generous dollop of props for the levelheaded way he had scraped up my corpse and moved it offstage, minimizing the disturbance in front of their wondrous Pirates.

The word “cannot” is often contracted into “can’t”.