This is a discarded draft of Shallan finishing the Shattered Plains drawing in chapter 81.
Shallan moved her fingers along the map, measuring distances with the back of her pen, making sure that the four quadrants of the map were equal. The paper was relatively dry, despite that omnipresent rain, even if she felt wet. It was the Weeping. Everything felt wet.
It was day, hard as that was to tell, two weeks since their departure onto the Shattered Plains–and the time when they’d have to turn about and return to the warcamps was approaching, lest they wanted to risk being out here when the highstorms returned.
That was looking less and less necessary. Shallan drew in the final plateau in the left bottom quadrant of the map. There were still enormous swaths of emptiness, of course, but the army—at her direction—had been able to pinpoint the center and strike for it. They were close. Very close.
She nodded to herself, then passed the map to some of Navani’s scribes for copying. “All right,” Shallan said. “Show me.”
Rushu nodded. The ardent was a short woman—a few inches shorter than Shallan, which was rare for an Alethi—with absolutely unfair features. Really, Ardents didn’t deserve eyelashes like that. The woman’s shaved head only seemed to highlight how beautiful her features were, as if to keep something silly like a hairstyle from distracting from perfection.
Together, they left the pavilion and raised umbrellas. Guards in raincloaks fell in around them. The Parshendi had been spotted often during the incursion, but so far, no major clashes had occurred. Dalinar seemed to think that their presence indicated that armies were indeed getting close.