He dropped his hands onto the table and weighed whether to reach out for her fingers. Her wrist. Any beautiful part of her...

"Hate games, me. I've never been a gambling man." Not in cards, at least. Not in dice. But in war? Aye, he took risks. And he placed bets on his heart all too often. But he was most often the played and not the player.

"I confess, I can't understand a lick of it. Magic. The things that others here can do. The bloody wings've still got me half-convinced I'm dreaming. Or dead. Dead's most likely, in the end. But there's one thing I'm certain of..."