Thorn, pouring himself a golden goblet of the wine punch that Mat had found waiting, took up the explanation. They had barely registered, then. A little more of a tree right in front of her became visible, and she realized the mist was creeping back, perhaps being burned off by the sun. Ta'veren, it do be said.
Wilders, Siuan said dismissively, but it lacked force. I don't intend to carry you on my shoulders, or kill Sammael for you. Kill them before it's too fate, Lews Therin murmured. Some gaped in recognition as Rand passed by; a handful dropped 'to their knees, heads bowed.
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