Snippet #2262890

Theo thought about it. "The violent Russian who knows a lot about guns, the dyslexic warrior with a fetish for medieval weapons, the backup who I can't tell the difference of threatening me or joking, the soldier I know nothing about, and the scared-of-everything brains. Do we even know eachother's last names? I mean, yours is Helsang, we all know that..."
Theo looked at the horses (trying to ignore the still-attractive girl's hand touching him) and thought about them, too. "I don't know. They smell like shi-manure. They attract flies. They'll kill you if they're spooked. They eat a lot." He shrugged. "No, I don't like horses. I mean, they're useful pack animals, and sources of glue, but that's it, and it's one-or-the-other; a race horse is too much muscle for food, and a glue horse has to die to be used." One of the puppies jumped into his calf. He looked down and tried to shoo it away, but the moving of his hand only got them all excited. "Ugh..."