"He must be French… from the sound of his voice.
Funny how the mind meanders in the downtime of even the most bizarre situations. She changed her mind; he must be German--identifying himself as Cuylrh dae Medoch, the last syllable pronounced like he was clearing his throat. Definitely a German, with the most striking gold eyes she could ever have imagined.
Then again… why on God’s green earth would she ever have imagined a cinnamon-skinned, giant of a man, with gold eyes? Oh yeah, and add that he spoke some French dialect of German.
An unsettling thought gnawed at her in spite of her reluctance to acknowledge it; maybe she wasn’t even on God’s green earth."
That's it. What jumps out at you, good or bad. I'd love to hear it.
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