“I used to know things,” Silde said mournfully, craning over her shoulder at her erstwhile companions, and, despite the iciness of the pre-storm gusts, refusing to hustle.
Tamar struggled to keep the grimy hand and the attached grimy sister moving in the correct direction. A dodgy moment, when Silde twisted completely out of her grip and tried to dart back towards the frog pool, was foiled when she secured a hold on the muddy collar instead. She said sharply: “If you attended to your tutors, you would know things now.”
The mud-flecked face turned upwards, eyes water-clear. “I used to remember.”
Riders of Skaith 