Hastily he tossed the fleece-lined cloak aside, ridding himself of weight and encumbrance. Not Egwene the damane; Egwene al'Vere of Emond's Field. They can no see whether I do or no anyway. Black gave way to green, and green to black, along knife-edge lines.
There were villages in this sparsely forested country, but they had left roads behind, and stayed clear of even farmers' crofts. Rand threw up his hands. Worse than foolishness. I stand ready.
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