Shadow Mountain i had walked my entire life as a dead man

"i've had a g-good teacher," lestan said in a breathy little voice that wanted to be so much more forceful. "i suppose," he went on, in the manner of a well-threaded man with hands clasped behind his back, rising once on the balls of his feet;
"— i suppose i wanted to show you the results of one of your l-lessons," and he found himself again, earnest and standing in the spotlight of his own desire.
winter was illuminated by the rising stars, just now becoming edged in the silverwash provided by the moon just as she began to waken. lestan could not take himself from the black eyes nor their devouring; "have i succeeded then?" shy! wanton! breathless; rooted. surely the entire blessed world could hear the pulse thundering in his wrists, in his throat.