Movement caught Rhosgen's attention as the wherry dropped to the ground, and he tried to stop crying.
((Hello!)) Tyren repeated, a cheerful echo as he nudged the wherry closer. ((Hungry? Bring food!)) And never mind that half a raw wherry probably wasn't everyone's cup of klah; particularly when brought by a brown wher the size of a small pony.
Blackadder: I mean, what about the people that do all the work?
Baldrick: The servants.
Blackadder: No, me; *I'm* the people who do all the work.