We Hunt the Flame (Sands of Arawiya)

Men can be such beautiful trash

Her identity, viciously unraveled.

We hunt the flame, the light in the darkness, the good this world deserves.

The beauty that withstands all. Stubborn in the harshest of atmospheres

Zafira. The moon never fears the night. The gazelle doesn’t fear the unknown. Why must you, Huntress

The Hunter is a da’ira. A compass. Hunting in the Arz is hard enough, but finding one’s way back successfully for five years? There is magic at play. A da’ira is one of the rarer affinities. He has only to set his mind to an object, and he will be led to it

She no longer had a tongue, and it was because of him that she did not

His mother used to say that a person without hope was a body without a soul.

“You think we should keep this? Could be useful for thwacking our enemies.”
Nasir gave him a look. “We will not be thwacking our enemies. What are you, a child?”

“Do I look like a monkey?” Altair asked.
“That would be a disgrace to the monkey,” Nasir