Redsand Canyon it's awfully groovy seeing all the treasure and the booty

few things on earth could have prepared val for the windstrider that met him. her height, her savagery, the way her eyes seemed to sweep him up and gobble him whole. a nervousness veined out within him, nearly threatening to empty the contents of his bladder.

he'd been away from society and normalized life for a long time, and yet even he remembered to avert his gaze, to lick, to keep his posture lower than that of the grandmaster that dwarfed him in every retrospect.

in her presence words -- which had often come so blithely and easy to him -- seemed suddenly hard. he knew what to say and yet could find no command over his faithless tongue.

state your business imperiled him, and he could find no courage to speak.