“You are as eloquent as ever, Mat," Egwene said dryly. "Do you still have your pet fox?""I do," Mat said. "He's snuggled up nice and warm.”

“He doesn't know what to make of me," Mat said softly."How very uncommon. I can't think of anyone else who has reacted that way to you, Mat.”

“Burn me," Mat said, throwing on the shirt he dug out of the bundle. "I'll give you a hundred Tar Valon marks if you do it, just so I can tell the story.”

“SHUT UP. Both of you. You're coming with me." To me he said, "Put some pants on.""Fuck you. This is my house. I make the rules. You take your clothes off. John, get the Twister mat.”

“I have lived for four centures," he said. "Perhaps I am still a youth, in that all of us are, compared to the timeless age of the Wheel itself. That said, I am one of the oldest people in existence."Moiraine smiled. "Very nice. Does that work on the others?"He hesitated. Then, oddly, he found himself grinning. "It worked pretty well on Cadsuane."Moiraine sniffed. "That one...Well, knowing her, I doubt you fooled her as well as you assume. You may have the memories of a man four centuries old, Rand al'Thor, but that does not make you ancient. Otherwise, Matrim Cauthon would be the patriarch of us all.""Mat? Why Mat?""It is nothing," Moiraine said. "Something I am not supposed to know. You are still a die-eyed sheepherder at heart.”

“You ride to battle?" Karede asked."I was thinking more of a saunter," Mat said. He shook his head. "I need a feel for what Demandred is doing...I'm going out there, Karede, and putting you fellows between me and the Trollocs sounds delightful. Are you coming?”