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. Then again, it would
straighten for a time, only to abruptly veer off to the east
or west, as though circling around some obstacle that
neither the dwarf nor the kender could see.
At times the path narrowed, becoming only six or
eight feet wide. In these places the big cats gathered along
its edges - sometimes a dozen or more, rumbling and
purring in feral anticipation - and the two were forced to
go in single file, running a gauntlet of swatting, searching
claws as the animals balanced just at the borders of the
path and strained forward, trying to reach them.
"These creatures are most decidedly unfriendly," Chess
mentioned as he dodged a huge, needle-clawed paw. As
it whipped past him, he rapped it sharply with his
hoopak. "Bad kitty!" he snapped. The cat's responding
growl was thunderous.
Just behind him, Chane ducked as a cat swatted at
him. "Stop stirring them up," he ordered the kender.
"You're just making matters worse."
"I don't know why they have to be so surly." The ken-
der shrugged. "Maybe they don't get fed regularly. I
wonder why this path twists and turns so much. Doesn't
it seem odd to you that a path should go to so much trou-
ble to go aroun'd things, if there aren't any things to go
around? I'll bet we've walked ten miles so far, and ha-
ven't gained more than a mile or two
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