“Can you tell me the real ending?” Kaladin asked, his voice small. “Before I go back out?” Wit stood and stepped over, then put his hand on Kaladin’s back and leaned in. “That night,” he said, “the little dog snuggled into a warm bed beside the fire, hugged by the farmer’s children, his belly full. And as he did, the dog thought to himself, ‘I doubt any dragon ever had it so good anyway.’” He smiled and met Kaladin’s eyes. “It won’t be like that for me,” Kaladin said. “You told me it would get worse.”
