She paused, peering into her cup, and when she looked up, her eyes were sharp on Moiraine's face. A few ran, seemingly without any idea of where they were running, but most moved like poorly handled puppets, more afraid to go than to stay. Finding Fain, and the Horn. That's what Rand said.
That is well. Mat and Perrin tended their horses, and Loial sat on a stone reading a book, with his long-stemmed pipe clenched between his teeth and a wisp of smoke curling above his head. The women at the entrance to the women's apartments looked up calmly as they came closer. Good morning to you all.
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