Oh, who has grasped hold of my soul this night? He found himself unhitching the sword, heard himself saying, "I don’t know if you have a weapon, Acquitor," and knew his own disbelief at the absurdity of his own words, the shallowness of his reasoning, "so I will give you mine ..." And he was holding the sheathed sword out to her.
At the threshold of her home.
Fear turned, studied him, but Trull could not look away from her, not even to see what must be realization dawning in his face.
Letherii though she was, Seren Pedac clearly understood, her gaze becoming confused, then clearing. "Just that, I take it. A weapon ... for me to use."
No. "Yes ... Acquitor. A weapon ..."
She accepted it, but the gesture was without meaning now.

Autor: Steven Erikson

Oh, who has grasped hold of my soul this night? He found himself unhitching the sword, heard himself saying, "I don’t know if you have a weapon, Acquitor," and knew his own disbelief at the absurdity of his own words, the shallowness of his reasoning, "so I will give you mine ..." And he was holding the sheathed sword out to her.<br />At the threshold of her home.<br />Fear turned, studied him, but Trull could not look away from her, not even to see what must be realization dawning in his face.<br />Letherii though she was, Seren Pedac clearly understood, her gaze becoming confused, then clearing. "Just that, I take it. A weapon ... for me to use."<br />No. "Yes ... Acquitor. A weapon ..."<br />She accepted it, but the gesture was without meaning now. - Steven Erikson




©gutesprueche.com

Data privacy

Imprint
Contact
Wir benutzen Cookies

Diese Website verwendet Cookies, um Ihnen die bestmögliche Funktionalität bieten zu können.

OK Ich lehne Cookies ab