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"What's the occasion?"
"The occasion is our last dinner - a celebration," she said
simply, waving him to sit by the plate that faced the pool.
He dropped to the ground on the fluffy moss and slid his
legs under the bench. "Celebration," he snorted. "What have
we to celebrate? We're leading a ragtag bunch of gully
dwarves off to save a village from a powerful, demented
magician, and -"
"I know all that," she interrupted with a sigh. "Can't we
have just a few last peaceful hours?" She folded her legs un-
der her and gracefully lowered herself to the ground, back
to the pool. She took the hilt of an old dagger and stirred it
around in one of the pots, then used it to ladle a portion of
the pot's contents onto Flint's plate.
"Sauteed white fungus and onions," she said. Pointing
from one pot to the next, she rattled off their contents.
"There's mushrooms and sprouts, meat - don't ask what
kind- - in red sauce, turtle soup, and creamed fish."
"Where did you get all this stuff?" Flint mumbled through
a mouthful of delicious fungus and onions.
Perian propped her chin up on her hands looking proud,
yet a little sheepish
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