Quotes About Hunter

Isabelle!" Simon called. "Stop throwing clothes at me! Just because you're a Shadowhunter and I'm a vampire doesn't mean we can never happen. Our love is forbidden like the love of a shark and a—and a shark hunter. But that's what makes it special.

Isabelle!" Simon called. "Stop throwing clothes at me! Just because you're a Shadowhunter and I'm a vampire doesn't mean we can never happen. Our love is forbidden like the love of a shark and a - and a shark hunter. But that's what makes it special." "Oh?" Isabelle snapped. "Which one of us is the shark, Simon? Which one of us is the shark?

Our love is forbidden like the love of a shark and a—and a shark hunter. But that's what makes it special.

One Indian was taller on horseback than all the rest, broader across the shoulders and chest. Hunter. She kept her gaze on him. A month ago she would have fled in panic. She would never run from him again.

Amy did as she was told, albeit reluctantly, describing with every step the dire fate that was in store for Loretta when Hunter caught her. "He won't cut off my nose!" "Will so!" "Will not!" Loretta leaped across the wash and turned to help her cousin. "Now stop with trying to scare me.

We're fine. Trust me. I rode to Hunter's village, didn't I?" "With directions from Hunter!" "Well, from now on I have to follow my nose." "Enjoy it while you still have one.

Hunter's name drifted to him on the wind, the call barely discernible yet shrill, like the whisper of a lost soul searching for solace. He reined his stallion to a halt, bracing himself against the sound, teeth clenched, eyes closed, his trapped breath searing his throat. Hunter. His woman still called for him.

I'm not leavin' until I see my ma. It's not me Hunter's after!" "He'll snatch you back all the same! He has crazy ideas about family when he marries up with a body.

The girl is half my size. I think I can handle her without calling council." "You disappoint me, Hunter. Where is the patience you show with the wild horses you train? Has it gone the way of the wind?" "A horse is worth the trouble. A yellow-hair is not.

Well, with Hunter as the father, I have to think of names he'd approve of." "You call that child Running Water and I'll disown you." Loretta giggled. "I don't know. After hemming all those diapers, maybe Running Water wouldn't be so far off mark.

I'm quite a hand on names. Let me think on it." "Something impressive for a boy, Ma." Amy pursed her lips. "You know--like Mighty Fighter. Or Wise King. You gotta remember how Hunter thinks. They give boys grand names." "Swift Antelope, for example?" Loretta grinned.

As quickly as they had advanced, the Comanches retreated. Loretta, buffeted by the wind, stood alone on the flats until they rode from sight. When she could no longer hear the tattoo of their horses' hooves, she held up her hands and stared at the smears of crimson that stained her skin. Hunter's blood. The ultimate sacrifice. And he had made it without a second's hesitation, out of love for her. The pain that knowledge caused her ran too deep for tears.

In a voice that rasped with frustration as well as tender amusement, Hunter said, "You have such a great want for me that we must hurry, yes?

Hunter, if you leave signs for other Comanche bands, why do white men have so much trouble finding you?" "They are not smart.

Make me a story." "Hunter, I don't have a stitch of clothes on," she squeaked. One of his dark eyebrows flicked upward. "You must have clothes to make stories?

As she lifted the skirt to examine it, Hunter stepped into the lodge, sending her scurrying for cover under the buffalo robe. Flashing her a mischievous smile, he said, "Maiden sent the clothes. Next time, you will not be wrapped in so much wannup , yes? It will take us much less time to do nothing.

I'm in no need of matrimony, Father. I still have my honor." Hunter jerked her to his side and, in an ominously even voice, said, "Your honor will soon go the way of the wind, Blue Eyes. You made a God promise. You are my woman! Now I say you will be my wife!

Hunter, why did you tie me to stakes again tonight? How long do you plan to do that?" "Until my touch is carved in your heart.

What do your feathers say?" "They have my mark. And tell a little bit my life song." His full lower lip quirked in a grin. "My marks say I am a fine fellow--a good lover, a good hunter, with a mighty arm to shield a little yellow-hair." She hugged her knees and grinned back at him. "I bet your marks say you're a fierce warrior, and yellow-hairs should beware.

She heard the coyote again. Hunter. "I'm going. He's out there calling me, and I'm going.

I'm never going to be a hunter, I know that now. I don't know why it should be so different. Like Will said, I eat meat. But if I had to look into its big, wet-looking dark eye and then shoot it first, I'd live the rest of my life on peanut butter, pasta, and fish.

Cursing? Do you mean hunter?" It was her best guess, for Taiga had grimaced when she used it, as though the word hurt her to say. "Nope," said Taiga, kicking the dirt with one boot. "I mean wife.

But my heart is a lonely hunter that hunts on a lonely hill.

Friend, I am grieved when I find a venator or hunter of your experience and observation, following the current of vulgar error. The animal you describe, is in truth a species of the bos ferus or bos sylvestris, as he has been happily called by the poets, but, though of close affinity it is altogether distinct, from the common Bubulus. Bison is the better word, and I would suggest the necessity of adopting it in the future, when you shall have occasion to allude to the species.