Niniel smiled at Dynaviir. He seemed to be truly concerned for her welfare, a trait all-too-often missing from the people with whom she found herself. "N-no. I--I am n-n-not cold. I-i-if you want t-to stay here, th-that is p-p-perfectly all right with me."
He'd been glancing at his sword, and now covered it a little more with the edge of his cloak. She supposed he'd noticed her glances at it and didn't want to make her nervous. She smiled again. "Y-y-your sword i-i-is very well-made. W-w-where did you g-g-get it?"
It was a lovely weapon, as unlike the ones she was used to seeing as could be imagined. Only, she could almost remember a fine sword, or was it a longknife?, that someone had given her when she was still learning her trade.
[ July 23, 2003: Message edited by: Tinuviel of Denton ]
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