“The arrow must come out, Qotho.” “Yes, Great Rider,” Mirri
“The arrow must come out, Qotho.” “Yes, Great Rider,” Mirri Maz Duur answered, touching her bruised face. “And your breast must be washed and sewn, lest the wound fester.” “Do it, then,” Khal Drogo commanded. “Great Rider,” the woman said, “my tools and potions are inside the god’s house, where the healing powers are strongest.” “I will carry you, blood of my blood,” Haggo offered. Khal Drogo waved him away. “I need no man’s help,” he said, in a voice proud and hard. He stood, unaided, towering over them all. A fresh wave of blood ran down his breast, from where Ogo’s arakh had cut off his nipple. Dany moved quickly to his side. “I am no man,” she whispered, “so you may lean on me.” Drogo put a huge hand on her shoulder. She took some of his weight as they walked toward the great mud temple.Art by IrenHorrors -- source link
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