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I don't care whose stories they are, Bran told her, I hate them. He didn't want stories and he didn't want Old Nan. He wanted his mother and father.
He gave her back a hug that felt as good as any Giller had ever given her. One of his big, warm hands rubbed her back. It was a long hug, too, the longest she had ever got, and she wished it would never end.
Pug rolled and came to his feet. Roland was up an instant later, and they squared off. Roland's expression had changed from rage to cold, calculating anger as he measured the distance between them.
Where night sliced off a crescent, it was not wholly dark, but a faint sheen wavered. Mingled luminances turned the room into a cavern of soft lights and lairing shadows, a place of mystery and silence.
Jesus, just leave it alone now. Leave it alone? You must be fucking nuts. Fagetaboutit! This sonuvabitch comes into my house, attacks me, humiliates me and leaves me to clean up the bodies he slaughters all over my house.