His breastplate held the cold and radiated it through his coat and all the layers of wool, silk and linen beneath. His breath misted white in front of his face, frosting his neatly trimmed mustache and the black fox fur lining his hood. The sun stood halfway to its peak, and gave no warmth. He watched the winter forest and was as still as the trees.
Waiting for the next battle, for the enemy to move, to make a mistake. Rodel Ituralde hated waiting, though he well knew it was the largest part of being a soldier. From The Prophecies of the Dragon translation believed done by Jain Charin, known as Jain Farstrider, shortly before his disappearance Crossroads Of Twilight - Wheel Of Time 10Īnd it shall come to pass, in the days when the Dark Hunt rides, when the right hand falters and the left hand strays, that mankind shall come to the Crossroads of Twilight and all that is, all that was, and all that will be shall balance on the point of a sword, while the winds of the Shadow grow.
0 kommentar(er)
