Pillowing his head on his arm, he peers at Rakos’s shape out in the shadows. His dangerous prowl, a shadow himself in that black wyrmskin coat. Bellamy recalls something Mother once told him. Pay attention to what people do, instead of just what they tell you. Words are just what people want you to hear. For all Rakos’s talk about leaving Bellamy behind, he hasn’t yet. Maybe that means something. Or maybe Bellamy’s just been lulled into complacency by those amazing hands.
