With a loud cough, he whirled to face the other way. One of you, anyway. I was winning, most of the time. Born on the slopes of Dragonmount.
The fifth arrow left his bow, and he lowered it, still deep in the void, as the fourth grolm fell like a huge puppet with its strings cut. Mat snickered, but when Loial looked at him questioningly, he said, Very pretty, Loial. I saw that much before I ran. Mat! Perrin! I think Rand is sick.
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