Worse, Molly was a sensitive, a wizard whose supernatural senses were so acute that surges of powerful magic or the emotions that accompanied life-and-death situations were something that caused her psychic and physical pain.
Butcher, Jim (2011-07-26). Ghost Story: A Novel of the Dresden Files (p. 158). Roc. Kindle Edition.
Molly limped along between the two little spirits, holding hands with each of them. She was moving with her back perfectly rigid, her steps cautious, and she looked a little green around the gills. Like I said, she’s a sensitive. She must have figured out the true nature of the child ghosts immediately upon meeting them, and she clearly did not relish the idea of being in skin contact with them. It said a lot about her intestinal fortitude that she had accompanied them at all. It probably said even more about her trust in me.
Butcher, Jim (2011-07-26). Ghost Story: A Novel of the Dresden Files (p. 357). Roc. Kindle Edition.
“It was the vampire, wasn’t it,” I said. “Seeing him die.”
She blinked at me. Then at the scattered beads. “I…I didn’t just see it, Harry. I felt it. I can’t explain it any better than that. Inside my head. I felt it, the same way I felt that poor girl. But this was horrible.”
Butcher, Jim (2008-02-05). White Night (The Dresden Files, Book 9) (p. 321). Penguin Group. Kindle Edition.
“So,” he said. “What is she going to do?” “Look into its eyes,” I said. He gave me a somewhat skeptical look. “Trying to see the last thing impressed on her retinas or something? You know that’s pretty much mythical, right?” “Other impressions get left on a body,” I said. “Final thoughts, sometimes. Emotions, sensations.” I shook my head. “Technically, those kinds of impressions can get left on almost any kind of inanimate object. You’ve heard of object reading, right?” “That’s for real?” he asked. “Yeah. But it’s an easy sort of thing to contaminate, and it can be tricky as hell—and entirely apart from that, it’s extremely difficult to do.” [...] “You said it might not be pleasant for her,” Butters said. “Why?” “Because if something’s there, and she can sense it, she gets to experience it. First person. Like she’s living it herself.”
Butcher, Jim (2008-02-05). White Night (The Dresden Files, Book 9) (pp. 24-26). Penguin Group. Kindle Edition.
I stepped back into the circle, tugging Molly along with me until we were standing on the heavy bloodstain where the boy had been executed. There was a psychic remnant of the death there, a cold, quivering tension in the air, an echo of rage and fear and death. Molly shuddered as her feet came to rest atop the stained concrete. She must have felt it, too.
Butcher, Jim (2007-02-06). Proven Guilty (The Dresden Files, Book 8) (p. 369). Penguin Group. Kindle Edition.
Charity nodded, and also looked back at the kids. “My daughter. How is her training progressing?” “Well, I think,” I said. “Her talents don’t lie anywhere close to the same areas mine do. And she’s never going to be much of a combat wizard.” Charity frowned. “Why do you say that? Do you think she isn’t strong enough?” “Strength has nothing to do with it. But her greatest talents make her unsuited for it in some ways.” “I don’t understand.” “Well, she’s good with subtle things. Delicate things. Her ability at handling fine, sensitive magic is outstanding, and increasing all the time. But that same sensitivity means that she has problems handling the psychic stresses of real combat. It also makes the gross physical stuff a real challenge for her.” “Like stopping snowballs?” Charity asked. “Snowballs are good practice,” I said. “Nothing gets hurt but her pride.” Charity nodded, frowning. “But you didn’t learn with snowballs, did you.” The memory of my first shielding lesson under Justin DuMorne wasn’t a particularly sentimental one. “Baseballs.” “Merciful God,” Charity said, shaking her head. “How old were you?” “Thirteen.” I shrugged a shoulder. “Pain’s a good motivator. I learned fast.” “But you aren’t trying to teach my daughter the same way,” Charity said. “There’s no rush,” I said.
Butcher, Jim (2009-03-03). Small Favor: A Novel of the Dresden Files (pp. 3-4). Penguin Group. Kindle Edition.
Sensitive
Butcher, Jim (2011-07-26). Ghost Story: A Novel of the Dresden Files (p. 158). Roc. Kindle Edition.
Molly limped along between the two little spirits, holding hands with each of them. She was moving with her back perfectly rigid, her steps cautious, and she looked a little green around the gills. Like I said, she’s a sensitive. She must have figured out the true nature of the child ghosts immediately upon meeting them, and she clearly did not relish the idea of being in skin contact with them. It said a lot about her intestinal fortitude that she had accompanied them at all. It probably said even more about her trust in me.
Butcher, Jim (2011-07-26). Ghost Story: A Novel of the Dresden Files (p. 357). Roc. Kindle Edition.
“It was the vampire, wasn’t it,” I said. “Seeing him die.”
She blinked at me. Then at the scattered beads. “I…I didn’t just see it, Harry. I felt it. I can’t explain it any better than that. Inside my head. I felt it, the same way I felt that poor girl. But this was horrible.”
Butcher, Jim (2008-02-05). White Night (The Dresden Files, Book 9) (p. 321). Penguin Group. Kindle Edition.
“So,” he said. “What is she going to do?”
“Look into its eyes,” I said.
He gave me a somewhat skeptical look. “Trying to see the last thing impressed on her retinas or something? You know that’s pretty much mythical, right?”
“Other impressions get left on a body,” I said. “Final thoughts, sometimes. Emotions, sensations.”
I shook my head. “Technically, those kinds of impressions can get left on almost any kind of inanimate object. You’ve heard of object reading, right?”
“That’s for real?” he asked.
“Yeah. But it’s an easy sort of thing to contaminate, and it can be tricky as hell—and entirely apart from that, it’s extremely difficult to do.”
[...]
“You said it might not be pleasant for her,” Butters said. “Why?”
“Because if something’s there, and she can sense it, she gets to experience it. First person. Like she’s living it herself.”
Butcher, Jim (2008-02-05). White Night (The Dresden Files, Book 9) (pp. 24-26). Penguin Group. Kindle Edition.
I stepped back into the circle, tugging Molly along with me until we were standing on the heavy bloodstain where the boy had been executed. There was a psychic remnant of the death there, a cold, quivering tension in the air, an echo of rage and fear and death. Molly shuddered as her feet came to rest atop the stained concrete. She must have felt it, too.
Butcher, Jim (2007-02-06). Proven Guilty (The Dresden Files, Book 8) (p. 369). Penguin Group. Kindle Edition.
Charity nodded, and also looked back at the kids. “My daughter. How is her training progressing?”
“Well, I think,” I said. “Her talents don’t lie anywhere close to the same areas mine do. And she’s never going to be much of a combat wizard.”
Charity frowned. “Why do you say that? Do you think she isn’t strong enough?”
“Strength has nothing to do with it. But her greatest talents make her unsuited for it in some ways.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Well, she’s good with subtle things. Delicate things. Her ability at handling fine, sensitive magic is outstanding, and increasing all the time. But that same sensitivity means that she has problems handling the psychic stresses of real combat. It also makes the gross physical stuff a real challenge for her.”
“Like stopping snowballs?” Charity asked.
“Snowballs are good practice,” I said. “Nothing gets hurt but her pride.”
Charity nodded, frowning. “But you didn’t learn with snowballs, did you.”
The memory of my first shielding lesson under Justin DuMorne wasn’t a particularly sentimental one. “Baseballs.”
“Merciful God,” Charity said, shaking her head. “How old were you?”
“Thirteen.” I shrugged a shoulder. “Pain’s a good motivator. I learned fast.”
“But you aren’t trying to teach my daughter the same way,” Charity said.
“There’s no rush,” I said.
Butcher, Jim (2009-03-03). Small Favor: A Novel of the Dresden Files (pp. 3-4). Penguin Group. Kindle Edition.