She sighed, grinning stupidly. “Oh!” Syl said, still on the ardent’s shoulder. “She thinks you’re pretty!” Kaladin drew his lips to a line. He nodded to the woman and left her, striking back into the rain toward the center of town. Syl zipped up to his shoulder. “Wow. She must be desperate living out here. I mean, look at you. Hair that hasn’t been combed since you flew across the continent, uniform stained with crem, and that beard.”
