Aramis eyed the chairs at the kitchen table. Chairs mostly made for regular-shaped people and not for man-sized turtles with a shell that stuck out enough to make sitting in a chair a task.

He walked over to the table and set down his plate in the spot he wanted to sit. He leaned his staff against the table, making the rings atop it jangle. Then he pulled the chair out and turned it around. He settled down on it, straddling it so his shell wouldn't keep his butt from sitting on it properly.

"Practice makes for true knowledge."