Grenn sounded peeved. He stopped beside the largest of the three firepits, peering around at the faces of the Dothraki. He began to whistle a tune. Broken sword points fanned out between his fingers.
The khal's eyes were closed. Who do you think sends the wind, if not the gods? She seated herself across the pool from him, clinking faintly as she moved. He had as well been blind. Ser Rodrik hammered at the big man in the shadowskin cloak, their horses dancing round each other as they traded blow for blow.
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