in, she reappeared, shaking off the importunings of a hatchet-faced fellow in one of those red coats. Climbing the rest of the way, he took Faile's hand and breathed in the scent of her. He could see Nalesean yawning in a yellow-striped coat on the far side of them, and Vanin sat slumped atop an upended barrel not far from the stable doors, apparently asleep. Rhuarc threw back his head and roared.
In here, she said. Few Cairhienin still dared call Aiel savages, not where they could be heard, but most thought it. Perhaps even sa'angreal. The dream winked out, the soap bubble pricked.
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