Dawn Treader Valley Να πνίξεις όλα όσα οι άλλοι λεν μες τη σιωπή

Her own vulnerability settled over her in a way that felt wrong, a prickling discomfort centered on that single point of contact. His paw felt too warm. Her pulse was strangely unsteady, and she was overcome with the urge to withdraw her own.

She didn't.

Do you miss Florentia? It was the closest she could offer to a lowering of those walls he spoke of. Even this felt unnatural, a sort of curdling in her veins. Andromache felt as if she might be sick. She wondered if he thought of returning, of leaving to find his own way home. She knew in the next moment that she would never ask.