Their attention remained fixed on the southern rise, waiting for the signal that would announce the arrival of the destiny of the Shaido Aiel. A large pot of the coarse white porridge that was eaten for breakfast hereabout bubbled gently on one of the white-tiled stoves. Thorn, pouring himself a golden goblet of the wine punch that Mat had found waiting, took up the explanation. If they saw danger, there was danger.
Myrelle was relying her saddlebags, plainly on the point of leaving. I do not see why, Elayne replied, then dashed all her hopes by adding, But I'll have to ask Aviendha to be sure. Her hands plucked at her dress, but her voice was cool and self-possessed, fit for an Acs Sedai. Report yourself now.
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