“I do be able to make one.” A woman in a red dress stood up from the lines of wounded, where she had apparently been Healing. She was thin and bony and had a sour expression on her face, but Mat was so happy to see her, he could have kissed her. Like kissing broken glass, that would have been. He’d have done it anyway. “Teslyn!” he cried. “What are you doing here?” “Fighting in the Last Battle, I do believe,” she said, dusting off her hands. “Don’t we all be?” “But the Dragonsworn?” Mat asked. “I did not find the White Tower to be a comfortable place once I did return,” she said.
