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Thornden
“Next time watch who you try to boss around, soldier,” Wulfric said. Thornden raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth with a retort, but Wulfric cut him off. “But let us not bicker here now. There are more important things at hand.”
A smile played at the corner’s of Thornden’s mouth. Not a companionable smile, but a hard one. “Indeed,” he said. “Such as keeping our status as the men of Lord Athanar we are, looking like noble eorlinga. Your and your brother’s appearances do none of us any credit. It is evident what recreation you have been making, while the rest of us have been attending to our duties, though your brother's occupation is more of a mystery...unless he got further along than you.” He turned his head away, looking forward across the courtyard to Faramund’s men.
“Take the flower out of your hair.”
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