Kayla

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John Flanagan
“He waited while Gilan and Will moved the cloaks experimentally, eyeing each other and studying the unusual colors, seeing how they would blend into the landscape of rock and desert that surrounded Al Shabah.
All right, ladies," he said, "if you're finished with the fashion show, let's go meet the Wakir.”
John Flanagan, Erak's Ransom

John Flanagan
“Svengal lay groaning on the turf. His thighs were sheer agony. His buttocks ached. His calf muscles were on fire. Now, afterhe had tumbled off the small pony he was riding and thudded heavily to the turf on the point of his shoulder, the shoulder would hurt too. He concentrated on trying to find one part of his body that wasn't a giant source of pain and failed miserably. He opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was the face of the elderly pony that he had been riding peered down at him.
Now what made you do a strange thing like that? The creature seemed to be asking.”
John Flanagan, Erak's Ransom

John Flanagan
“Erak. The one they call the Oberjarl," the Arridi answered him.
Impulsively, Axl took a pace forward, raising his ax threateningly.
You'll have to go through the rest of us to take him!" he shouted defiantly.
Well done, Axl," he said. "You've just told them I'm here.”
John Flanagan, Erak's Ransom

John Flanagan
“Do you think you could put that boot back on?" he added mildly. "The window can only let in a limited ammount of fresh air and your socks are a tough ripe, to put it mildly."
Oh, sorry!" said Horace, tugging the riding boot back on over his sock. Now that Halt mentioned it, he was aware of a rather strong odor in the room.”
John Flanagan, The Icebound Land

John Flanagan
“Undoubtedly, Baron Arald thought with a deep sense of pride and satisfaction, this would go down as the weddiong of the year. Perhaps of the decade.
Already, it had the hallmarks of a roaring success . The Bores' Table was well attended with a group of eight people, currently vying to see who could be the most uninteresting, overbearing, and repetitive. Other guests glanced in their direction, giving silent thanks to the organizers who had seperated them from such dread-ful people.
There had been inevitable tearful flouncing and shrill recriminations when a girlfriend of one of the younger warriors from Sir Rodney's Battleschool had caught her boyfriend kissing another girl in a darkened corridor. It wouldn't be a wedding reception without that, Arald thought.”
John Flanagan, Erak's Ransom

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