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. I didn't know whether you
could swim."
The dwarf turned, glaring at him with hot-eyed fury.
"I can't swim! I had to walk." He sat down to empty wa-
ter out of his boots and his pack, then put them on again
and stood, plodding toward the kender with the look of
mayhem in his eyes. "Why did you jump on me up there?
If you can't scale cliffs, why don't you just stay off of
them?"
"I didn't jump on you," Chess said. "I fell on you. It's a
different thing entirely. It...." He looked past the
drenched dwarf and pointed. "Do you know that you
have a following?"
Where thickets began, fifty yards downstream, four of
the great black hunting cats had emerged. Ears laid back,
eyes blazing with feline anticipation, they padded to-
ward the pair, their rumbling purrs like distant thunder.
"Don't talk about it," Chane said. "Run!"
They ran up the creek bank, across a gravel bed, and
onto meadowgrass where thickets converged ahead of
them. The kender, in the lead, dove into the thickets, as
quick and as limber as a rabbit taking cover. The dwarf,
slower of foot, felt hot breath on his back as he bumbled
into a viny wilderness that clawed and pulled at him
from all sides. With one arm up to protect his feet, he
pushed on, short, brawny legs making up in power what
they lacked in speed
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