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. He
hardly heard his own voice, bellow though he did above the
wind's scream, and he knew that Tanis had not heard him at
all. He caught Tanis's arm and pulled him to a halt.
"Listen!" Sturm shouldered his pack to an easier perch
on his back and moved in close. "You're not going to tell
me again about how that's the wind, are you? Those are
wolves!"
They were indeed. The fiction of the wind had been partly
for Sturm's sake, partly for his own. Tanis abandoned it as
useless now. "I know! But we have to push on, Sturm! We
can't let them get between us and the shelter!"
"Run? You want us to run?" The thought of fleeing from
danger sent a spasm of disgust across the youth's face.
Beneath that revulsion, though, was an instinctive fear. It
was not hidden, Tanis saw, as well as Sturm might have
hoped.
Tanis's humorless laughter was caught by the wind and
flung away. "I do! But the best we can do is slog on. There
is no shame in this retreat, Sturm. We're no match for a
pack, and Flint and Tas won't appreciate our courage at all
if they have to consider it while freezing to death."
Though carefully given, it was a reprimand. Sturm
recognized it and took it with considered grace. "I'm not
accustomed to flight, Tanis," he said gravely
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