Q: Kadin loved the desert. Many creatures lived in the desert. Some learned to survive within her harsh burning grip. Some even learned to thrive in her, building stone monuments to themselves and living their lives surrounded in the lavish luxuries of Gods. How puny their monuments were compared to the desert herself. Where they had castles surrounded by dry moats, the desert had mountains surrounded by thousand year sandstorms. Where they had silks and the most beautiful slaves serving their every greatest desire, she had dunes that stretched for a thousand leagues and a sun that burned huge and deep crimson in the violet sky. Where desert kings, the Danken, dined on the finest food and drank the finest wine, the desert drank every drop of water from the air itself and feasted on men. Kadin knew the desert. He knew her voice whispering in the dark of night like a dangerous lover. The sound he heard now was not her voice but a cry from one trapped within the desert's teeth. It was the cry of a woman. Kadin rose from his makeshift bed in the dip of two dunes. He stood quickly, tying the leather straps of his knife belt around his waist. He pulled on his boots and silently mounted White Ash. THe mare felt his soft touch and made no sound. Kadin listened and heard the cry again. He studied the dunes in the darkness of night. THe blood moon painted the desert a deep red. He felt the echos and turned White Ash towards their origin. He rode quietly into the night. Kadin saw the glow of torchlight long before cresting the hill. He guessed four riders from the sound of their horses and confirmed it when he rose above them. Three men, now on foot, chased a woman in black across the dune. Their horses stood back, panting from a hard ride. The woman's own stallion lay dead, a black arrow buried in its flank. What is true of Kadin after the end of this excerpt? - He is riding a stallion - He is mounted - not enough information - He is wearing sandals
A: He is mounted

Q: Thank you for the a2a! I have a habit of making mental errors; some funny, some not. This one just happens to be funny. We had "open critiques" in art school. The idea was A- to point out how we could do it better, and B- to toughen us up for the advertising world. It's brutal, cruel, and cutthroat, and get ready for your stupid clients to ruin your tasteful design and fuck it all kinds of up to put a picture of their ugly-ass crotch dropping on there, or a huge starburst that says "SALE SALE SALE!". You had to learn not to care, and do your fulfilling artwork on the side. It's just a job; nothing personal. We were in the middle of a critique, and it was turning ugly. The only time our professor would jump in was if it turned personal. It had. He laid back and let us fight it out, until someone told the girl we were critiquing that "with your taste from growing up in a trailer park, looks like you'll be working for the Auto Trader" (a shitty, newsprint magazine that people sell used cars in- the worst of the worst design jobs). Before our professor could comment, I blurted out "For fuck's sake, Mom." I was about to say "tell them to break it the fuck up!" until the laughter started. Then I realized I'd called my professor, who had an MFA and spent 20 years in advertising at Saatchi and Saatchi, "Mom". He responded with such amazing, quick wit; "Ms. Hood, I admire your devotion to your mother; just remember she stays home while you come to class." I caught hell for it that entire semester. Luckily, we (almost) all had pretty tough skins, so it was amusing, even to our somewhat staid professor. He wrote on my end of semester assessment "Respectfully, Not Your Mom." I still keep that assessment to remind me to wear life like a loose garment. We all say stupid shit sometimes; just laugh at yourself and enjoy the silly moment. Why was the narrator teased and made fun of for the entire semester? - not enough information - For calling the professor mom. - For being made fun of having lived in a trailer park. - For not making any critiques in class.
A: For calling the professor mom.

Q: "You either change of life or you change of man" When I was married, my wife had a very complicated life to handle outside. She was always stressed from her studies, pressure and job, so she would go out, most oftenly with me, to places and times we shouldn't have been. She would just decide, in the middle of the night, even as early as 2 in the morning that we should just race the city, see places She always had those cravings to do stuff at strange times, getting to sport events with me at the other bit of the country This crazy kind of life got us in a big lot of troubles. People trying rape her, attack us and much many more. it was happening too often and I often had to be quite violent to these people so she stays in one piece. I had to fix a lot of crap in order for her to live fully her fantasy. But I was more worried for her than me and I wanted us settle down, calm and have children we could raise peacefully. There was that one night where, we both came back very late from a sport competition, we had to travel dangerous roads very late at night sometimes by bus, foot and other times subway. At one point that night, two drug addicts tried to rape her, so I did what I had to do, but still I didn't kill them. Then I shoved her and I really mean shove, inside a taxi, got in there too and asked it back home. When I arrived, she was denying the danger, denying anything wrong with her way to behave. So I really snapped, I just pulled my ring and chains away, threw them on the table in front of her and I told her the sentence I mentionned up there. I was harsh on her that night in my words and symbol but I just couldn't take that way anymore How does the wife feel? - tired - not enough information - there is nothing wrong with her behavior - happy
A: there is nothing wrong with her behavior