Adolin pulled free and crossed the stage. He supported Maya, putting her arm across his shoulder to hold her up as he would a wounded soldier. She clung to him, stumbling as she struggled to remain upright. Even as she did, however, she whispered it again.
“We chose,” she said, her voice ragged as if she had been shouting for hours. “Adolin, we chose.”
Brandon Sanderson, The Rhythm of War
There haven't been many times in my life when I dropped my book, AND my jaw, at the same time.
Painted in Procreate. For brushes, see my Gumroad! https://jennydolfenart.gumroad.com/
Also, drawing this in the staffroom was a funny experience. Colleague: "WHOA! What's THAT?" - Me: ... ... ... ...
... I really can't explain in less than twenty minutes. ... But that's not a human. ... You might say she's his sword." Colleague: *slowly backing away*