My children would like to hear that tale, their father seeing Hawkwing's spire. Saying nothing, she turned to consider the other men thoughtfully. He had long, graying hair, and multihued stripes crossed the front of his deep gray coat from his neck almost to the hem just above his knees. But since leaving home he had seen too many stories walking in the flesh ever to be so sure again.
They would not follow me anyway. There's some easier passes there, toward the tip of the Dagger, as I recall from when I went to Cairhien that time. You can smell it. No, Loial, you must stay behind, too.
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