Dragoncrest Cliffs wrap your hands around my throat and put me to rest

She didn't enlighten him to what that word meant, and his frown deepened.  If it had been the other way around, with her not understanding Trigedasleng, he would've elaborated for her.  It reminds him that she is an outsider, a fact he'd rather forget.

Everything, she says, and his lips tighten, his stomach squeezing.  She elaborates quickly, but he's still unsure if he can show her everything.  There is a lot of land south of Drageda, and he hasn't been very far himself.  But he won't back down now.  He made a promise, and she was his Brana.  In his head, her success directly corresponded to his own; he wasn't going to let her down, but more importantly, he wouldn't let himself down.  

Then I'll show you, he said as if it was settled.  He'd tell heda he wanted to take her to the mountains.  With two of them, they'd be safe, and he'd gone on trips like this before.  Meanwhile, he'd get to work through whatever weird feelings were causing him to be unnecessarily distracted.  Maybe he'd even get it to go away before they came home.

She stretches, thin shoulders rolling in waves in front of him.  What he feels is more base instinct than anything else, but it urges him to stand and steady himself as his stomach turns in knots, ears faltering slightly.  There's something about her shoulders that bothers him.  He grits his teeth.  What are you looking for?  Drageda should have all she needs, he thinks.  But if there is something here that she lacks, I can help.