The creature lipped at her palm in its eagerness, tickling her and slobbering her fingers with saliva. After checking to make sure that only she and Anwyn Bird were in the cattle shed she laughed out loud. Cows had no manners.“Don’t you go upsetting my beauties, Raina Blackhail,” Anwyn warned. “There’s little enough butter in their milk as it is.”Raina quieted herself and regarded Anwyn. The clan matron was looking old. The thick rope of hair pinned in a circle around her scalp was completely gray. When had the gold gone out of it? Raina could still remember her first sight of Anwyn Bird, that summer when she’d arrived at the Hailhouse from Dregg.All the clanwives had come out onto the greatcourt to inspect her. Raina’s uncle had arranged the fosterage, her second in under three years, and although he was a genial and well-meaning man he had a weakness for red malt. And when he was drunk he was prone to boast. He must have gotten drunk the day he visited Blackhail to purchase her fosterage, for later that evening he’d told a chamber full of clansmen that his niece was not only beautiful, but more graceful than Weeping Moira herself and as smart as Hoggie Dhoone.
What do You think about A Fortress Of Grey Ice (Book 2)?
