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Те, що бенкетує вночі (Клятвений солдат, #2) by
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Ms. Smartarse
is on page 152 of 155
Miss Potter had marched up to me, and said in her accented Gallacian, "Until next time we meet, young sinner! If you die before me, we'll drink the country dry in your memory."
I bowed very deeply, wished her the best, then pulled Angus aside, and hissed, "You've got to get that phrase book away from her."
"I threw it out days ago," said Angus, sounding both proud and appalled. "She's got a terrifying memory."
— 17 hours, 33 min ago
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I bowed very deeply, wished her the best, then pulled Angus aside, and hissed, "You've got to get that phrase book away from her."
"I threw it out days ago," said Angus, sounding both proud and appalled. "She's got a terrifying memory."
Ms. Smartarse
is on page 87 of 155
I sometimes think the fundamental disconnect with civilians is that they think a war is an event, something neatly bounded on either end by dates. What anyone who's lived through one can tell you is that it's actually a place. You're there and then you leave, but places don't stop existing just because you aren't looking at them.
— Aug 15, 2026 12:53PM
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