Watch sharp, Ingtar commanded, gathering his reins. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and it was not all from exertion. They are the only ones not accounted for. Which do you think you would prefer? Nynaeve's hands tightened on her skirt, and she looked at the tent flap again, frowning.
Egwene curtsied, then stuck out her tongue at the Accepted's retreating back. Even if it is from the Age of Legends, I have no interest in such as that. The white-haired woman sipped her tea and waited. Lan's expression never changed; the practice sword seemed alive in his hands.
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