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.
John FlanaganYou should have left him to wander,” Svengal said coldly. Erak looked at him, eyebrows raised. “Would you?” he asked, and Svengal hesitated. At the end, Toshak had fought well and that counted for a lot of Skandians. “No,” he admitted.
John FlanaganAn ordinary archer practices until he gets it right. A ranger practices until he never gets it wrong.
John FlanaganYou're dropping the bow hand as you release," he called, although Halt certainly wasn't. His mentor looked around, saw him, and replied pithily, "I believe your grandmother needs lessons in sucking eggs.
John FlanaganHalt snorted derisively. "Battleschool evidently isn't what it used to be," he replied. "It's a fine thing when an old man like me can sleep comfortably in the open while a young boy gets all stiff and rheumatic over it." Horace shrugged. "Be that as it may," he replied, "I'll still be glad to sleep in a bed tonight." Actually, Halt felt the same way. But he wasn't going to let Horace no that.
John Flanagan