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Post by Flex on May 17, 2011 6:46:51 GMT -5
"I ask the questions here," Walton replied, his voice hard. "Did you see them?"
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Post by The Smith on May 17, 2011 15:20:04 GMT -5
"I did not, but I smell them." He replied, and sniffed the air, "And I can feel them on my tongue."
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Post by Flex on May 17, 2011 15:39:44 GMT -5
"Explain yourself," Walton said grimly, not liking the sound of what the wildling had to say one bit.
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Post by The Smith on May 17, 2011 16:06:54 GMT -5
The man smiled, "I just did."
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Post by Flex on May 17, 2011 16:13:50 GMT -5
Walton moved forward and placed his blade against the man's throat. "Then you'd better make a little clearer what you are talking about. Their smell? You feel them on your tongue? And none of you Wildling vagueness."
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Post by The Smith on May 17, 2011 21:17:30 GMT -5
The man did not react to the blade, "Stick out your tongue. Into the air, and taste it. Before you cut my throat, please."
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Post by Flex on May 17, 2011 21:24:59 GMT -5
Walton grunted and turned to one of the men. "Find Domeric. He'll have some questions for the wildling." He then turned back to the man and stuck out his tongue.
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Post by The Flint on May 17, 2011 21:29:52 GMT -5
Domeric returned, his scouting of the perimeter apparently having been unnecessary.
"What have we hear?" he asked.
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Post by Flex on May 17, 2011 21:31:13 GMT -5
"Wildling," Walton said bluntly, still "tasting" the air. "Walked right into our camp."
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Post by The Flint on May 17, 2011 21:35:40 GMT -5
"So has he seen or heard the face-cutters and the direction they were moving?" Domeric asked.
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Post by The Smith on May 17, 2011 21:42:11 GMT -5
Bolton stuck out his tongue, and there was a slight taste in the air, a bitterness that reminded him of the Dreadfort.
Hearst just stood, and then replied, "I ain't seen em, but they headed that way." He pointed north east.
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Post by The Flint on May 17, 2011 21:55:30 GMT -5
"What's over there that they might be headed for?" Domeric asked.
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Post by The Smith on May 17, 2011 23:33:43 GMT -5
"Nothing. Just the wind, snow, and death." The man chuckled, "It would take days to reach the Barrows."
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Post by The Flint on May 18, 2011 8:25:29 GMT -5
"Barrows? Which Barrows?" Domeric asked.
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Post by Flex on May 18, 2011 14:29:27 GMT -5
Walton kept his blade where it was, eyes flitting between Domeric and the Wildling.
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