Four Realms of Desire
“Everyone who’s brought you up here has probably waxed poetic about the majesty of the endless steppe and the way it builds resilience.”
“More or less.”
“It’s grass,” Xander said flatly. “A truly stunning quantity of grass, I grant you, but grass nonetheless.”
Loren bit back a laugh.
“The Windrider would argue that it teaches humility,” she said, with an attempt at seriousness. “That being small beneath an open sky reminds us of our place in the natural order.”
“In the marshlands, we are more accustomed to concealment and misdirection than visibility,” the Count remarked lightly. “I’m afraid it’s rather in our nature.”
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