[ Trahearne's gaze snaps to Syrlya when the other rights him, a hint of gratitude behind the wry smile. ]
I can count on one hand the times I ever bothered to grow my own shoes, Syrlya. [ He shivers for a second before taking another step forward. ] To be lifted from the ground is even further disorienting.
no subject
[ Trahearne's gaze snaps to Syrlya when the other rights him, a hint of gratitude behind the wry smile. ]
I can count on one hand the times I ever bothered to grow my own shoes, Syrlya. [ He shivers for a second before taking another step forward. ] To be lifted from the ground is even further disorienting.
[ And it hurts his legs. ]