You're not built for riding, either," Horace added. "I'd say more saddle sore than homesick." Svenal sighed ruefully, shifting his buttocks for the twentieth time to find a more comfortable spot. "It's true," he said. "I've been discovering parts of my backside I never knew existed.

Remember no one expects you to be Halt. He's a legend, after all. Haven't you heard? He's eight feet tall and kills bears with his bare hands.

Sit down, Will. There’s a good fellow,” he said. “Yes, sir,” replied Will, and Halt’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “He’s never called me sir,” he said. “Probably trying to get on my good side,” Crowley replied. Halt nodded savagely. “Probably.

You know, Gilan, sarcasm isn't the lowest form of wit. It's not even wit at all." -Halt

It was safe to assume that the rider would be carrying a weapon of some kind. After all, there was no point in wearing half armor and going weaponless.

Come closer, Kurokuma. It's quite safe.' Horace shuffled closer to the edge... 'Quite safe, my foot,' he muttered to himself. 'And what's this Kurokuma you keep calling me?' 'It's a term of great respect,' Shigeru told him. 'Great respect,' Shukin echoed.

Don't concentrate on the obvious. They might want you to miss something else.