Dôranna walked along with the company, twisting her hair into a bun and pulling it back out, twisting and pulling, twisting and pulling. She had the feeling that if she did not occupy her hands somehow, she would end up strangling someone.
The incident with Lanbriel had put her off of her ease, and when she was not fiddling with her hair she found herself fingering the hilt of her dagger. But what bothered her most was Rhûnnaro. After he had laid out his plans, it hit her that he really wanted to help them. Or at least wasn't out to kill them. It puzzled her, and intrigued her. What could he get out of it? From her experience, Easterlings only did anything when they could get something out of it.
She walked forward in the line that Rhûnnaro had set up, shooting him a penetrating look. He returned it calmly, and to her embarrassment she looked down. A perplexing man, indeed. She kicked at the ground a little, then concentrated on keeping up with the others.
[ May 26, 2003: Message edited by: Orual ]
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"Oh, my god! I care so little, I almost passed out!" --Dr. Cox, "Scrubs"
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