Short, no taller than Nynaeve, she looked like someone who had once been stocky and was beginning to go stout, but her jaw thrust forward like a hammer, and her black eyes spoke of intelligence. Lini and Breane began whispering together in increasingly worried tones,, shooting glances in her direction. Well short of the square where the Waygate lay, Rand stopped and looked around. Blood fountained past Nalesean's beard.
Ogier were reclusive at best. Silk sheets, he murmured. I think she nearly soiled herself just remembering. Something tugged on her braid, then again, and she was being towed.
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