[ No, not the type at all. Sharpe barks a laugh at the very idea, pushing his rifle further up to his shoulders. Strange way that this man speaks. Not even Wellesley speaks so damned formally - who even says 'hail' anymore?

Sharpe shrugs. ]

I'm from a big city. [ Wry. ] I'm a soldier, that's what I am, and soldiers hates forests. Nasty things. [ Pause. ] I haven't heard of anyone living within forests themselves, 'cept maybe in India and those are all wild men. [ He chuckles. ]

And yer too clean ta be a wild man.