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. Flint and Perian squinted at the container and saw that
it did, indeed, contain a sloppy pile of dirty, wet, decompos-
ing leaves. "King find good grubs in there for queen to eat!"
Nomscul winked conspiratorially at the hill dwarf.
Flint could see Perian gulp down her disgust. It was with
the greatest drain on his limited patience that Flint managed
to growl, "We don't want leaves. We want to go away, to
get out of here. Please lead us - or if you're too busy collect-
ing leaves - get an escort to take us to the surface."
"King want a skirt for queen now?" Nomscul was obvi-
ously puzzled by this new request. His queen looked dirty
enough. Shrugging, he spread his hands wide to measure
her thick waist, resolving to find one of the skirts that
helped differentiate Aghar frawls from harrns.
"Of course, we don't want a skirt, you ridiculous little
worm!" the hill dwarf exploded.
Perian put a hand on Flint's shoulder. "He doesn't under-
stand." Turning to Nomscul, she asked, "How many ways
out of Mudhole are there?"
The Aghar wiped his nose with his sleeve. "There one
way -" He held up three fingers "- to get out of Mudhole
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