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She could not have been more than seventeen and that was
young, Tanis thought, even by the standards of short-lived
humans. Crouched in the thick shadows of an ancient oak's trunk,
she held perfectly still. There was that in her blue eyes that
reminded the half-elf of a doe caught in a hunter's aim.
Flint breathed a startled oath. As though the old dwarf's
whisper was the impetus she needed, the girl bolted.
"No, wait!" Tanis called. But the girl plunged through the trees,
too terrified to cast even a backward look. Tanis leaped after her,
slinging his bow and returning the arrow to the quiver as he ran.
Behind him he could hear Flint angling toward the stream. Above
them a raven screeched hoarsely and took noisy wing from a tall
oak.
Tanis caught up with the girl at the stream. "Lady, wait!"
She skittered down the mossy bank. Once there she dropped to
her knees, groping along the edge of the water for a rock. Her
hand, raw with cold and trembling with fear, clutched a large
stone. She hurled it at the half-elf with all her strength and
awkward aim.
Tanis ducked and heard the rock drop harmlessly into the brush
behind him. Flint breached the woods just a little upstream from
the girl. He moved silently down the water's edge. While her
attention was still on Tanis, who took the banks in two long leaps,
Flint caught her by the elbows. He pinned her arms behind her,
and brought her up to her feet
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