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Nina, I suspect you and your Fjerdan may want something more to subsist on than patriotism and longing glances.
“I don’t like speculation,” said Matthias. “Of course you don’t. You like things you can see. Like piles of snow and benevolent tree gods.”
Matthias smiled broadly and boomed in a singsong voice, “Hello, little friend!”
“We are well and truly cooked.”
“My leg! My leg!” “I recommend a cane,” Kaz said.
Sturmhond sniffed the air. “I’m amazed you can detect anything over the reek of ice and inbreeding.”
Jellen Radmakker had fallen to the stage and was bellowing, “I’ve been shot!” He had not been shot.
It was a smile he thought he might die to earn again.