Arrow Lake a simple phrase

The length of Sycamore's body tremored at the thought of mercenary work. There was little to no muscle lining his bones which, were it not for a thickening winter coat, would lay visible beneath his skin. Tactical pursuits were his specialty; he was cunning and quick-footed, but weak. 

It doesn't matter, he thought to himself, She doesn't know that. If I don't tell her, she won't know. 
If nothing else, Sycamore was good at slipping through the cracks.

I worked shifts between the caches of my last group, he replied, It was good experience, but that's the extent of my training. The shadow took a moment to log the lie he'd just told -- guard caches, basic training, guard caches, basic training -- while he waited for her reply.