"You speak as if I do not know how to use a shovel," she answers back.

She thinks for a moment, and then, if he does not find a way to stop her, sweeps him into her arms. His height is unwieldy, but not impossible.

"You know your illness better than I. If you are alive, you can teach me about it. Should I fail" --and, Belain willing, she will not-- "we can try again in three days."

...When did she become so unmoved by the death of those not orcs or great spiders?