For what was not quite the first time, Eamon was second-guessing his decisions.
For one, he hated being lined up like this; they weren't livestock. One can not assume which are the strongest of a group by lining them up and analyzing their appearance. He didn't like being analyzed to begin with, but how were they to tell what a possible student's aspirations & strengths were? How were they to know if they had poor work ethics?
Which led to the question, what was he doing here? He didn't have a skill set, nor good work ethics, nor any aspirations aside bringing food and shelter and safety back with him when he returned home. His personality was designed for a dinner party--talkative and friendly, sure, but what did that amount to? He was too scrawny to fight, too lazy to think, and too easily distracted to ever dream of notching an arrow. He wasn't sure if he was good at anything but mooching and talking, really.
Still, the vagabond smiled as sincerely as he could. Maybe grinning would make up for a severe lack of talent.