If she had seen him vanish the sword, she would be all over questions about how and where, but she's too busy gaping at the window.
"Tedd Deireádh," she whispers.
Verily I say unto you, the era of the sword and axe is nigh, the era of the wolf's blizzard. The Time of the White Chill and the White Light is nigh, the Time of Madness and the Time of Contempt
As if in a dream, she walks forward, toward the end of all things, and reaches for it – only to be met with cool glass against her palm, and to blink herself back into the present. "Incredible," she says, softly.
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"Tedd Deireádh," she whispers.
Verily I say unto you, the era of the sword and axe is nigh, the era of the wolf's blizzard. The Time of the White Chill and the White Light is nigh, the Time of Madness and the Time of Contempt
As if in a dream, she walks forward, toward the end of all things, and reaches for it – only to be met with cool glass against her palm, and to blink herself back into the present. "Incredible," she says, softly.