““Sitting up in the saddle, with Daryn and the guys watching me, I was feeling pretty big-time, but my first instinct was to play everything down. Just a regular morning, tearing around a fjord on my gigantic fiery steed. It didn’t work. I felt a grin coming on and I couldn’t hold it back for anything. I knew I looked amazing up there, with my armor and horse. All burning. I mean, how often did you see that? “What’s up, guys?” I said, and reached down to pat Riot’s neck. I heard someone snicker, and I peered at them. “What?” Marcus scratched his jaw. I could tell he was trying not to smile. “Your horse, man. It’s the way he moves.” “It’s called knee action,” Daryn said. “Riot’s is quite high,” Jode added. He frowned and pressed his lips together, but I could hear him sputtering. “It’s cool, G,” Bas said. “He sort of … prances. Reminds me of those Irish river dancers. You know, the ones that—” He couldn’t even finish. He started howling. Suddenly they were falling all over themselves. “It’s ’cause he’s so big, you idiots,” I said. “He’s like a tank. And look at all this mud. He has to have permanent four-wheel drive.” I shut myself up, because I was only making it worse. Riot and I had to just wait it out. But I didn’t really care. I knew we were the best.””
