Nįrello glanced over to where Awyrgan was sitting by the fire talking to the elf lady. "He won't be staying past the evening - it's not his way. He likes to walk under the stars for some reason; he wouldn't ever tell me why. Besides, he hardly ever sleeps."
He put on his "tough" face (which looked surprisingly realistic). "I do not need proper rest," he said. But his head sagged a little and he eventually gave in. "I guess a bed would be nice as long as I can leave in the morning. And no washing dishes." He gave his best puppy-dog stare.
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"Dic, hospes, Spartae, nos te hic vidisse iacentes dum sanctis patriae legibus obsequimur."
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