( Nynaeve stares for a moment. Her eyes take in what she sees, but it's just strange enough that she's temporarily inclined to ask if this person stumbled out of the dream realm before it's as apparent that — no, they have not. And they do need tending to, even if she hasn't the faintest idea what one does with... sparkling? Internals.
She steps forward, hands held up for the bag, brow furrowed in intense, albeit slightly disturbed, concern. )
What in the worlds ( of which there are too many, and not all simple reflections of her own taken down different pathways on different turns of the Wheel ) happened? What can mend this?
c
She steps forward, hands held up for the bag, brow furrowed in intense, albeit slightly disturbed, concern. )
What in the worlds ( of which there are too many, and not all simple reflections of her own taken down different pathways on different turns of the Wheel ) happened? What can mend this?