Head and shoulders taller than the tallest man there, they were a stomach-turning blend of man and animal, human faces twisted and altered. She could not but be aware of the nimbus surrounding each of them, the light that came from touching the True Source. So sweet, the call of saidin. It's too late, he told them.
I heard it, too, and I haven't seen any of them since. Reflections of what will be are fainter than reflections of what is or what was, just as Hurin says the trail he followed was faint. I stand ready. And one who doesn't have enough sense to be worthy of her, at that.
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