[ Trust him. Daenerys raises an eyebrow, doubtful. She hardly knows the man; she has no idea what his skills are, aside from a seemingly unwavering level of confidence. (That, in itself, is neither good nor bad. She hasn't yet decided whether it's well-placed confidence or not.) ]
And what reason do I have to trust you? [ He is no knight, she now knows. Perhaps if he were, she would more easily put her faith in him. He's simply a regular man, and for all she knows, unfit to protect her in any way.
Still, the pitter-patter of the rain on the small roof above their heads causes her heartbeat to pick up, a prickling on the back of her neck telling her that what he says is true. They could remain here and hope the storm dies down before the acid begins to drip through the overhang, but it would be unwise. Making a run for it would be unwise, too, of course — but perhaps not quite as unwise.
Without giving him a chance to respond to her first question, she turns to him, eyes searching his face. ] Are you certain you can do it?
no subject
And what reason do I have to trust you? [ He is no knight, she now knows. Perhaps if he were, she would more easily put her faith in him. He's simply a regular man, and for all she knows, unfit to protect her in any way.
Still, the pitter-patter of the rain on the small roof above their heads causes her heartbeat to pick up, a prickling on the back of her neck telling her that what he says is true. They could remain here and hope the storm dies down before the acid begins to drip through the overhang, but it would be unwise. Making a run for it would be unwise, too, of course — but perhaps not quite as unwise.
Without giving him a chance to respond to her first question, she turns to him, eyes searching his face. ] Are you certain you can do it?