Ravak scratched at his beard. "...new experiences and mutual respect." The Shienaran had certainly had his share of that in recent times. It was still some little wonder he was alive. Days spent riding along the Blightborder and through the Blight, with the oppressive heat baring down on him, every little living thing in those blasted lands deadlier than the sharpest blade. Visiting one of the Grey Tower's border outposts, only to find a charnel house of Aes Sedai and Warders, struck down by a single Dreadlord. Finding a Fade in that tomb, and using everything he had to prevent himself from dying to its Thakan'dar-forged sword. A lot of new experiences, mostly unpleasant if entirely necessary.
As for respect, it was hard to have anything but respect for someone that Healed you. That Myrddraal would have claimed a draw, the cost both of their lives, had Kaia Sedai not been there on the instant of the Shadowspawn's death to save him. The same was true when it came to capturing the Dreadlord. Against anyone with the One Power, Ravak was bitterly aware that he would be as effective as a gnat. The M'Hael had made that much clear.
"Prewtez Gaidin." Rav knew him, had trained in the sword under him when he was still a Drin and Prewtez was a Ji'alantin. "He seems like a good man, definitely a fine soldier." Rav pictured d'Grayson under Betrys' command. Would he chafe under the Yellow, when he was clearly a finer match for a Green or Red? Rav drank some more of the tea. That decision has nothing to do with me. "Someone will make a Warder out of him, of that I have little doubt."
The heat of the fire behind him was dying down a little, or the air from outside had grown colder. He twisted his chair back and grabbed hold of a couple of small pieces of wood. He carefully tossed them into the fire, making sure no flaming embers tumbled or sparked out. After a small moment, the cracking of wood began anew.
"You've made no decisions about a final choice," Rav repeated. "But you must have some ideas of the sort of person you'd like to be with? You could have an Accepted go around gathering herbs for you and taking away bloody bandages. It would be a little jarring, having someone in a fancloak tending to a garden, don't you think?" There was levity in his voice as he asked that, and he smiled above his cup. He could have probed further, asking about the other things one would look for in a relationship instead of a partnership, but Betrys was a Yellow, not a Green. Rav held tight to those thoughts, hidden behind a mask of good humour.
As for respect, it was hard to have anything but respect for someone that Healed you. That Myrddraal would have claimed a draw, the cost both of their lives, had Kaia Sedai not been there on the instant of the Shadowspawn's death to save him. The same was true when it came to capturing the Dreadlord. Against anyone with the One Power, Ravak was bitterly aware that he would be as effective as a gnat. The M'Hael had made that much clear.
"Prewtez Gaidin." Rav knew him, had trained in the sword under him when he was still a Drin and Prewtez was a Ji'alantin. "He seems like a good man, definitely a fine soldier." Rav pictured d'Grayson under Betrys' command. Would he chafe under the Yellow, when he was clearly a finer match for a Green or Red? Rav drank some more of the tea. That decision has nothing to do with me. "Someone will make a Warder out of him, of that I have little doubt."
The heat of the fire behind him was dying down a little, or the air from outside had grown colder. He twisted his chair back and grabbed hold of a couple of small pieces of wood. He carefully tossed them into the fire, making sure no flaming embers tumbled or sparked out. After a small moment, the cracking of wood began anew.
"You've made no decisions about a final choice," Rav repeated. "But you must have some ideas of the sort of person you'd like to be with? You could have an Accepted go around gathering herbs for you and taking away bloody bandages. It would be a little jarring, having someone in a fancloak tending to a garden, don't you think?" There was levity in his voice as he asked that, and he smiled above his cup. He could have probed further, asking about the other things one would look for in a relationship instead of a partnership, but Betrys was a Yellow, not a Green. Rav held tight to those thoughts, hidden behind a mask of good humour.
