Sweat, Toil and Temperament [Attn: Marla]

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Welcome to the Warder Yards. This is the place for Warder and Trainee roleplays. Informal non-training interactions take place here, as well as some extended role plays. Yet these events may take place at any area of the Tower, and sometimes outside of it, since the images to the left merely serves as inspiration towards the sceneries of your stories. Channelers are always welcome, and might even find his or her bondmate through the threads that are displayed below.
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Andy
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Sweat, Toil and Temperament [Attn: Marla]

Post by Andy » February 17th, 2017, 6:25 pm

It was becoming easier now, practise and routine beginning to combine with his ongoing desire to forge himself into something better. He still possessed his sense of self but he now acknowledged that there were too many flaws to allow them to stand. Some were taking longer than others but physical endurance, that he could fix quite easily - if painfully. Discipline was foreign to him but the results spoke for themselves and he had to admit, albeit grudgingly, that there were merits to the method. At present he was shirtless, the top half of his uniform left draped over a practise dummy in the corner of the Yards. It had been far too restrictive.

Besides, it itches like the Dark One’s touch every time it gets damp the thought entered his mind and he pushed it away.

He was covered with dust, stuck to the sweat that had dried as fresh torrents sought to sweep it away. Boots had long ago scuffed themselves into a lighter shade from the constant laps he had managed to force himself through. Forced was the operative word, he wasn’t just trying to become the fittest Drin’far’ji at the Tower, he was trying to outdistance them to such an extent that he stood out for a good reason for once. A few Novices had come to watch every so often, so had some Gaidin and his peers. They probably thought he had lost some of his sanity.

For good reason, I suppose. Been here every day, same time, same routine. More repetitions he noted as his breathing struggled to maintain its rhythm.

In, out, in out, nose, mouth, nose, mouth. Arms swinging to give momentum, heel first and roll to the toes, push away, other foot. Again. What had been a torturous Bell-long jog had evolved over the weeks. He had managed to pack what had taken a whole free period of time to do into two thirds and he was pushing for half now, and it wasn’t coming easily. He rounded the corner of the Yard with a kicking up of the dirt, skidding slightly and forcing an outstretched hand to slap at the floor and force him to maintain balance. Two more laps and he was done, finally letting reality to pull him out of the mental zone he had been using. Deep, rasping breaths interspersed with coughs erupted as he tried not to double over, instead putting hands behind head to try to open up his lungs.

“Beat…that…” he coughed aloud to himself as he made his way back to where he had left the top half of his uniform, taking it slow and letting his muscles cool slowly, keeping himself mobile.

He reached the water barrel and opted for a head first approach, drinking in deep mouthfuls before sweeping his head back to a rain of droplets, wiping his face of the excess he shook his head. Running was over but the rest still remained. Pull ups, press ups, all those moves that left your muscles hitting back at you the following day or so. He sat down for a few moments, resting and gathering his energies before taking up the mantle.

He raked his fingers through his hair and knew he still had a long way to go, unbelievable as that seemed to him. The Shadow never slept, he had to make sure he could get twice as much done whilst awake just to equal it. A daunting task indeed.
~
Arafel Will Rise, Kick Matty's Butt & Be Totally The Most Awesome Land Evar
~

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Re: Sweat, Toil and Temperament [Attn: Marla]

Post by Sunny » February 20th, 2017, 8:25 pm

Fiona grunted as she braced her bow and pulled downward, fingers stinging as she tugged at the string. Her shoulders ached and the muscles up her sides burned from the effort from bending the black yew, but the loop snapped free of the nock and she flipped her bow to remove the string entirely with a broad smile. Five years of minimal practice took its toll on an archer, but she had managed to hit the center knot with every shot that day, and her arms, although tired, were better than they had been the day before.

She turned from the butts and walked toward the Warder Yards, nearly skipping as she remembered she wore breeches. They were white wool and thus made little practical sense as training garments, but they granted her freedom she had not enjoyed since Mirin had pulled her out of the Warder Yards. That was good enough for her- and she had already found time to make the necessary adjustments so they fit properly, as well.

The faint ringing of bells caught the Andoran’s attention and her head turned to the flattened track that ran about the entire training facility. A man she did not recognize sprinted toward her, wearing only Drin gray breeches and shoes. His hair had been bound into a plethora of braids that bounced and tangled as he ran. The sound came from his hair, she realized, and abruptly Fiona smiled. Arafellin? Amazing that Ravak hasn’t shaved his head. Then again the opinionated Darrow was no longer the Master of Training, and perhaps that made all the difference.

The stranger passed without noting her presence; after a moment of thought, the tiny woman followed after, her own pace not much slower despite her shorter legs. When she reached the water barrel she stopped, although the Drin kept running. She hopped up to sit atop the fence, her heels caught over the lower rung and her bow propped beside her. The stranger would come back.

And so he did; as he approached, she noticed that his face had drawn into a type of single-minded determination that she knew all too well. So she had looked as she completed her first few weeks of training, intent on proving Ravak wrong. So had Zeen looked, the nights she had watched him pelt around that same track. He slowed and stopped, then dunked himself into the barrel without apparently noticing her.

When he straightened, the shower of water from his hair caught the light, refracting into tiny lights that sparkled and splintered in the sun. Fiona laughed in delight, then called “I think you outpaced the Dark One's horses three laps ago.” At last the object of her interest realized she existed, and the Andoran smiled as he turned to look at her. “I thought I’d take a second to find out why you were trying to break the ground with your feet,” she said cheerfully. “My name’s Fiona. Who are you?”
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Re: Sweat, Toil and Temperament [Attn: Marla]

Post by Andy » February 20th, 2017, 9:20 pm

The chime of laughter, melodious and delightful compared to the usual gruff guffaws the Yards graced him with, startled him out of his concentration. The breeze across his bare skin caused a shiver that the superstitious might consider portentous. Luckily he had long ago dismissed the idea that the Pattern had much interest in him beyond making him the butt of every joke known to Arafel. He took a moment to look at this new distraction as he picked up his shirt and wiped himself as dry as he was going to get. White garments seemed entirely too form fitting for an Aes Sedai to approve but eh wasn’t complaining.

Pretty little thing, little being the operative word. Even sat down it’s obvious. Cairhienin perhaps? Best not press that just in case he noted to himself as the smiled at her warmly, it was not a difficult reaction to express.

Blonde tresses, blue eyes and a slight frame were the obvious characteristics but being trained to read opponents these days, even if he was not very good at it, also caused him to notice the bow and look at her shoulders and arms - she had the ability to use it, even though it seemed like it was the same size as her. That was impressive and he tilted his head and the bells jingled some more. Classical beauty combined with a warrior’s weapon, it was a rare combination amongst channellers, which he presumed her to be.

“Probably, can never be fit enough though apparently,” he chuckled as he stretched his back and shoulders, shaking out his leg muscles as he did so, “I think they just want me to smooth down the ground for when they pave it but it’s better than getting hit with their lathes so I let it go. If I can outrun the Dark One’s horses though I reckon I‘d b able to do a bit more damage than he‘d like, that‘s fine by me” he smiled, as if he had any choice what to do when they said jump.

“Powerful weapon that, don’t see many who use the One Power using weapons, let alone ones like that. Pick it up as an aside or just need an excuse to come to the Yards?” he asked, there was a slight tease to the words in response to her gentle mockery, he gave as good as he got as a general rule.

“As for breaking my feet, apparently pain is an illusion and should be able to be endured. I’ll tell you whether it’s possible once I’ve finished breaking myself. If you want to chat though feel free, I can do both at the same time. Ever talented me” he snorted and shook his head before letting himself fall slowly forwards onto the palms of his hands and started the push up routine.

“Forgive me…fair lady…but if I…don’t finish…they’ll have more…reasons to…punish me. Got enough…already. Alrim…by the way…Farshera. Honoured…to meet…you. Not seen you…before…new here?” he got out between the movements, it was more difficult than he had expected but what he had said was true, he needed to exercise at least a bit more or he’d never be able to achieve his goals.
~
Arafel Will Rise, Kick Matty's Butt & Be Totally The Most Awesome Land Evar
~

Sunny
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Re: Sweat, Toil and Temperament [Attn: Marla]

Post by Sunny » February 25th, 2017, 6:21 pm

Fiona listened to the torrent of words from the stranger, feeling an odd sort of kinship as his commentary and energy washed over her. This easy conversation was what she missed the most about the Warder Yards. She had been judged for her size, but the judgment had passed as she proved herself with hard work and dedication. Channelers measured her worth by her strength in saidar, however, and since her potential would never increase the disdainful treatment she received would likely never cease. Be careful what you wish for, she thought. You just might get it. It had been years, and still the irony struck home.

“Alrim...it’s good meet you as well!” The Accepted said brightly as she pushed her inner thoughts away, her eyes following the motion of his pushups. She watched muscle ripple in fascination for several breaths before pulling her attention back to their conversation, cheeks pink. “I’m not new, no. I’ve been at the Tower for….” she paused, calculating quickly. “Eight years.” Light! Had it really been so long? “I actually started off right here in the Yards. I trained as a Drin for a bit, passed the test, even. I liked it well enough, but then Mirin Sedai came and re-tested everyone, and it turned out I could learn to channel after all. So here I am.” She shrugged eloquently.

“My father gave me my bow,” she added in answer to his first question, her voice taking on a note of genuine affection as she glanced at the weapon. “He taught me how to hunt and live off the land. It came in handy as a Drin, let me tell you! I didn’t have much time to practice as a novice, but now I’m Accepted I’ve added time in the Yards back to my regular lesson plan. I don’t like being helpless,” she finished fiercely.

“What brings you to the Tower?” she asked, blonde curls bouncing as she pushed herself off the fence. “You’re a long way from home.”
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Re: Sweat, Toil and Temperament [Attn: Marla]

Post by Andy » February 26th, 2017, 7:32 pm

He came to the end of his exercise regime, or the push up part of it at least, just as Fiona's words came to and ending. He heaved himself up to his feet and dusted his hands off with a sigh, he had done about as much as he was able to do without pushing himself too far, for a bit. His legs were supporting him with difficulty and he had put his core through the wringer already. He took the opportunity to enjoy some welcome relaxation, made all the better for the pleasant company. He leant his hip against the fence and faced her as his breathing started to return to normal.

"Your father must have been a smart man then, an ambitious one too. That bow's one of the harder ones for sure. You'll have to remind me not to challenge you to an arm wrestle" he smiled as he slipped his top on, left loose to flutter occasionally in the wind. He had learned the benefit of keeping himself warm between exercises.

And that question again, the one everyone always wants to know. The one people tend to judge you about he noted mentally.

"So, you know about both parts of the Tower then? Beats me, on both brains and beauty," he stated with a shake of his head as he stretched his shoulders slightly, "I only know how to get hit or hit back. Still, I guess it's not so bad. Got nothing against the Power but seems more complicated than a sword, my life might be easier, no?" he asked her at the end, he was genuinely curious as to how channellers viewed the world.

It made sense to take an interest, he would be governed by one of them in the future perhaps. He hoped that, were it to happen, that it would be to someone who didn't look down his nose at him but he was pragmatic - he was being honed for a task. Some tasks were unpleasant and so he had a realistic set of thoughts on the topic. He cast his eye over Fiona and found an interesting, pretty and overtly cheerful sort. He knew not if that changed beyond the skin but it was a nice discovery regardless.

"I'd not think you would be helpless bow or not, though I think it's a good idea to have a back up if you need it," he nodded slowly, "as for me...no use denying it, I'm here for my mistakes. Not welcome at home, sent away for being a thoroughly disreputable, yet handsome, lad who liked fun more than work" he shrugged.

"Guess you could say I'm here to have the Tower make a man of me. Or something like that. I think it'll end up being a big prank and everyone will come tell me after I get hit for the thousandth time" his grin returned than after the serious but sad cast to his face previously, " you're not in on it are you?"

"What brings you here then? And where're you from? If your father was a hunter then surely you could have stayed there. Decent living that and all the furs you could ever hope for in clothing. Food aplenty. Did you com for adventure then? Old stories of battle fervour and romantic horse rides under the moon..." he chuckled and let the words trail off, it was clear he was not being serious but he was genuinely curious about her reasons too.

"And what's better, Accepted or Drin?"
~
Arafel Will Rise, Kick Matty's Butt & Be Totally The Most Awesome Land Evar
~

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Re: Sweat, Toil and Temperament [Attn: Marla]

Post by Sunny » February 28th, 2017, 7:22 am

Words. So many words. Fiona leaned against the fence, elbows hooked over the top rail, and listened with a cheerful smile. Disreputable yet handsome? She supposed she couldn’t argue with that self-assessment given his current disheveled and certainly attractive appearance. Her cheeks heated once more and she glanced away to collect herself.

Of course he chose that moment to end his humorous deluge with a direct question.

“Channeling is a beautiful thing, but they wrap novices in cotton and protect them like porcelain figurines," she said. "Drin Fiona had to choose to mercy-kill a comrade; novice Fiona could barely be trusted to change her shift without supervision. Nevermind they were the same person.” She nearly swallowed her tongue as she spoke; she had never breathed a word of Morgan’s death to anyone, not even to those who had witnessed the awful choice she had been forced to make. What in the Light? “It hasn’t improved much since becoming Accepted, but at least the end is in sight, one way or another.” With one hand she mimed being pushed out of the Tower; with the other, she pretended to clutch a shawl about her shoulders.

“For the rest of your….many...questions,” and she gave him an easy grin, “let’s see. I’m from-” she hesitated. She liked their easy conversation, and all too often her status caused problems.

“I’m from Andor,” she said finally. “My father liked to hunt, but he wasn’t a hunter by profession. He encouraged all of us -his children, I mean- to learn as much as we could about the things that interested us. Archery was one for me.” Her fingers had found her bow, trailing up and down the yew lovingly. “He had this made special for me. It’s a bit harder to draw than a full-sized bow, but at least I’m not tripping myself with it every other step. I could use a recurve I suppose, but I like the extra range and,” her tone turned mischievous, “I like seeing the expressions on bloody great louts’ faces when I put an arrow through an apple at three hundred paces.”

The Accepted laughed softly and moved on. “I came here because I wanted to make a difference in the world,” she said. “I thought I’d have a better chance here than anywhere else. Maybe someday that will actually be true. Then again, perhaps I, like you, am simply the victim of an enormous prank.” She looked at him sidelong through her eyelashes. “I have seen neither hide nor hair of that romantic moonlit ride, after all, and I explicitly requested it when writing up my version of how life should go.”

She winked and tossed her curls back. “Does that satisfy your curiosity?” She asked teasingly. “Shall I list my favorite foods next, or should I simply invite you to join me for lunch so you can find out on your own?”
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Re: Sweat, Toil and Temperament [Attn: Marla]

Post by Andy » February 28th, 2017, 6:31 pm

He blinked, had he asked too many things at once? He did like to talk, especially around pretty little things so he conceded that he might have done. He was a curious person, especially about people and their past. He wasn't nosy, hardly ever pressed, but it was like a balm to hear that there were others who had had it hard too, it reminded him that in that one way at least there was a larger family at the Tower. He had noted the pink in her cheeks, he hadn't thought he had said anything that might cause that but then he was in his current predicament for doing and saying before thinking.

"Ha, I guess I do talk a lot, tongue always got me into trouble," he rubbed the back of his head and tried not to look too guilty of his own past, "I am sorry that you had to do that, and that I brought it back up. But it shows courage and decency, two qualities in demand these days. It is to be admired" he stated simply, ending it there and vowing not to bring it up again.

I can't imagine what it was like, a terrible burden. One she perhaps still carries, if the tone of her voice meant anything he noted, lodging it away for future thought upon whether he might help with that. He liked to help others, it was slowly what he was being noticed for, he hoped.

"Perhaps it might be because you can't set yourself on fire with a training weapon," he mused aloud, looking at the fabric of her trousers, "they look quite flammable after all. And if too many of you ran around with those burnt away all other training would cease. For the men anyway, maybe some of the women too. And training is, of course, most important" he conceded with a grin and an amused tone.

He wondered if he classified as a lout as he bowed his head in acceptance of the offer for food, he was quite ravenous he realised, the training was working at something at least, even if it was at putting a hole through his middle. He probably was a lout but then he was fine with that, there were worse things to be and he would be better eventually. Maybe he would get to the rank of Chief Lout one day.

"Remind me not to put an apple on my head then, and to speak to the servants, 8 years and no moonlight is just unacceptable," he eyed her with an all too innocent look, "as for food, it would be an honour to accompany you fair Fiona, much better company than the usual...louts" he finished, offering her his arm.

"I have asked you many questions, only fair if you ask me too. Not as interesting as yourself perhaps but I'll do my best"
~
Arafel Will Rise, Kick Matty's Butt & Be Totally The Most Awesome Land Evar
~

Sunny
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Re: Sweat, Toil and Temperament [Attn: Marla]

Post by Sunny » March 6th, 2017, 6:06 am

The small Andoran collected her bow and slipped her free hand into the crook of Alrim’s arm. Like a proper young lady, she thought, but it was a bit too late to pull it back....and besides, the Arafellin smelled good in a way that made her slightly light-headed. She tried to put that thought out of her head as she turned to walk toward the Tower proper, but Light, it was difficult! She looked down as she considered what to say next and thus it was that she noticed the taller man purposely measuring his steps to match her own. Had anyone at the Tower ever been so considerate? A brilliant smile broke over her face as she looked back up at him, but she could not find the right words.

Instead, she hearkened back to what he had said previously. Of Morgan and burning clothing she chose not to speak again, the former for the sake of her heart, the latter for the sake of her dignity. Of him, however… “You were working pretty hard on your own for someone who thinks he’s stuck inside a prank,” Fiona commented. “This is going to sound terrible,” and she laughed softly at herself, “but I’ve watched many men run that track, and I’ve run it myself. Some run only as fast as the Gaidin order them to and then make their excuses and depart. Others run, as I said of you, like Darkhounds are after them. Of the latter, only one beat your speed, and he certainly did not stop and do push ups afterward.” In point of fact, she had been more than a little concerned that Zeen would simply expire where he stood.

She glanced up at him, and when she spoke again the teasing note had dropped from her voice, to be replaced with genuine interest. “If you think this is all a joke, why are you putting in so much effort to succeed? Is there something outside the Tower you are wanting to protect? And...since you are clearly working so hard….why do you mock yourself for that effort?”

A breath later, she added, “Also...I didn’t mean to censor you. You are welcome to talk as much as you like.” She smiled, her fingers squeezing his arm. “I like it.”
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False alarm- there's still a song for me; I'm just about around to sing it
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Re: Sweat, Toil and Temperament [Attn: Marla]

Post by Andy » March 6th, 2017, 8:51 am

Measured strides, he was getting good at those and not just in the walking with company kind. He had assumed, for most of his life, that the heroes of legend were born as they were. Special people, shiny and filled with ability bestowed by the Creator himself, woven into the Pattern for grand purpose. He was beginning to see that they still had to work for it, one step at a time, in order to get to their ending. Whatever end that was. Quite a few were tragic and he hoped his own was not quite so dramatic.

For Fiona's part she made him feel better just by being on his arm, pretty lasses tended to do that and she had her own aura of personality that seemed at once mischievous and at the same time reserved. She had her tales to tell and her own scars to heal by the sound of it. Why she tried to retain composure was beyond him, no on here cared much. Then again he had never been the best at understanding women, let alone Andorans.

Probably cultural, never met an Andoran before that I know of. Still she blushes very nicely he told himself privately, checking his mental barrier to prevent that from ever being said.

"Many men indeed? Fiona, if I didn't know better I'd say that made you like other Accepted" he responded, with a faint smile and an easy tone, "and who beat me? I'll have to challenge them one day, see if we can't change that" he continued, his tone slightly stronger then, he liked the idea of racing against the best. A small swell of pride before he checked himself and laughed inwardly.

He left the other words in the air between them perhaps longer than he intended, his gaze at first looking down at her with a smile and then shifting beyond her, into a death of thought he had only rally found since coming to the Grey Tower. It was a series of genuine questions and he sensed there was something behind them that she thought strongly about, though what it was he didn't know. Perhaps she was just a good heart. Still, she deserved a full answer, or as full as he could give. Her squeeze to his arm brought him back to the present moment.

"There is no one to protect, not really. My family, I suppose, though I doubt they think of me as such right now. Perhaps my sister, one of them. I would protect them. And the lands of Arafel, and the rest and so on. The normal things one would shield from the Shadow. Perhaps one day a better reason might come along" he began slowly, words put into place carefully, as if assembling something.

"I try hardest because for most of my life I didn't try at all. Lazy, rogue, fool. I was all of those and more. Sent most of my time in taverns and in fights. One too many, in the end. Disowned and sent here to make something of myself. Only place to go that seemed...big...enough. To be a Gaidin, surely that would be enough to buy it all back?" he asked the world in general.

"As to mocking myself...only way I know how to talk to myself. About myself. To keep myself in check and to stop myself being lazy. Never been much more than a mockery. Or...well it doesn't matter. There is food and merriment to be had, no?" he ended it there, leaving his deeper fears unstated, they would not be solved in one conversation and he wanted to make a good impression.

Their walking had led them, slowly but surely, towards the city and its myriad foodstuffs and associated aromas. He breathed deeply and took it all in, the day seemed like it would be one of his better ones by far. They continued and he grinned at her. the merriment back in his eyes once more. He was good at doing that, better than before.

"So, what does the fair Fiona like to do? When she isn't skewering louts with arrows, weaving brilliance and watching the men of the Yards?" he asked, a partial deflection, "and seeing as I have been given leave to be so bold, are there those whom you would protect outside of these stone walls?" he was curious if he would be so lucky.
~
Arafel Will Rise, Kick Matty's Butt & Be Totally The Most Awesome Land Evar
~

Sunny
"Knife of Dreams"
Posts: 3757
Joined: July 18th, 2014, 3:23 am
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Re: Sweat, Toil and Temperament [Attn: Marla]

Post by Sunny » March 22nd, 2017, 3:24 am

Fiona
Alrim gave Fiona plenty to think about as they walked. She found her new companion’s self deprecation endearing, if a little sad. He clearly did not think nearly as highly of himself as he should based on the little she knew about him. She tucked that information away for later review, and turned her attention to his smiles and laughter rather than his troubles.

“I like to sew!” The small woman declared with a smile. “I was never properly trained as a tailor, but I seem to do well enough with what I learned from taking apart old clothes. I rather enjoy the feel of a well-fitted garment.” She smoothed her skirts over her hips with her palms, giving Alrim a sidelong glance. “Of course...when I was a Drin I altered my uniform to fit me, shall we say, exceptionally well. Ravak Gaidin did not much appreciate my alterations, but he could hardly take my needle away.” Her voice brimmed with remembered amusement.

Fiona thought for a moment, then added, “I also spend a lot of time in the Infirmary with the Yellow Ajah. As odd as it may seem for someone who had planned to be a warrior, I have a Talent for Healing. I have always enjoyed helping people get well, and worked hard to please the Wise One in the village. I suppose I’ve always wanted to make the world a better place, and I didn’t see how I could accomplish that as a-” she cut off. As a package delivered to some snotty Lordling in exchange for a treaty, her mind finished silently.

Blonde curls bounced as the Accepted shook her head dismissively. “No matter, I am here. There are those outside the walls that I would protect if called,” like Andor itself, if five women were to suddenly die, “but my allegiance is to the Tower now, as well as my friends within it. I would die to protect them without hesitation...I suppose that’s a part of my Warder training that I haven’t yet scrubbed out. Perhaps I never shall.”

They had passed into the city proper and as usual Fiona’s delighted attention was drawn to every sight, sound, and location they passed. “Do you like to play at dice?” She asked as they walked by the Band of Brothers. “No, not there,” she added, tugging at the Arafellin’s arm. “They have good food, but this time of day it’s chock full of Aes Sedai.” They kept walking, and she continued, “So, do you? I won’t lie and say I’ve never played before, but I’m sure there are still tricks I could learn. Say you’ll play with me?” Her smile was wide, her eyes guileless, as the tiny woman shielded her face from the sun to look up at her companion.
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False alarm- there's still a song for me; I'm just about around to sing it
There's still a chance for me...and I'm still here singing.

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