Dawn Treader Valley sufrimiento

one did not care whether she went or stayed. the other expressed a concern that only infuriated silvertongue; it showed in the quick flash of her eyes, the teeth unsheathed to their tips, only for a moment — and then she had sunk down to the threshold of the cave, burying face to arms and breathing deep of the dry soil beneath her wrists. and she laughed, a tiny, muffled sound, too pathetic in volume to carry far, fading beneath the weight of her own frustrated bitterness.