If I could save Lamgwin, I would let them know you for the bleating sheep you are. Faile sniffed. Or more! Despite his best efforts, his voice became a touch frantic. With any other woman, Mat would have said she was moon-eyed and dreaming, but this was Nynaeve.
You, girl. The woman no longer sounded intoxicated at all. He did not know where she was leading with this new tactic—not where an oaf might suppose, he was sure—but it would be amusing to find out. Rand could have sprouted wings first.
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