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. He told himself that he never had believed.
Some wild coincidence, some quirk had led the animals to
the shelter. It hadn't been, after all, any of the pipe's doing.
Though he could still feel, in memory, the frightened race
of the rabbit's heart against his palms, and later the
confiding warmth of it where it lay against his foot.
Nonsense! The poor little beast was too exhausted and
frozen to care where it finally collapsed. He refused to
remember the deer and the goat, the mice or the owl. He
sighed and kicked at the blackened embers of the fire. We
can go out and look now, he thought. He would not allow
himself to think further. He did not want to consider what
they must find.
"They're home." Tas's voice was oddly hollow.
Flint turned slowly, the skin on the back of his neck
prickling. "What did you say?"
The kender's face was white, etched with weariness. But
his eyes were bright with some pleasure or satisfaction that
Flint did not understand. "They're home, Flint. They're
back." He put his pipe aside. Wobbling to his feet, he went
to stand beside the dwarf. He was tired, but it was the best
tired he'd ever felt.
Flint peered out into the night. Two shadows intersected
those pouring across the gleaming snow
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