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The procession hiked for several hours. Tas, Gisella,
and Woodrow dismounted and walked in deference to
the horseless dwarves. Woodrow took both sets of reins
and dropped back to lead the animals at the rear of their
party. The ground rose steadily as the road wound into
the foothills of the upcoming mountain range. Tas, who
thought himself uncommonly patient on this trip, finally
voiced the question that had been occupying his mind all
day.
"How much farther is the village? We've had nothing
to eat but raspberries all day."
The dwarf directly ahead of Tas grunted good-
naturedly. "We've a way to go. The town is across that
spur, in the next gorge."
Tasslehoff eyed the spur with awe. "We have to cross
that? Those boulders look the size of castles! We'll be at it
for hours!"
"We'll get to the other side, all right," replied the
dwarf, maintaining the brisk pace set by his fellows.
"A friend of mine, Flint Fireforge -- he's a dwarf, too --
told me once to be more concerned about what lies on
the other side of the hill than how I'm going to cross it,"
mused Tas. "I guess that applies right now. It isn't very
often that sayings apply as well as that."
The dwarf grunted again. "It sounds like your dwarf
friend is pretty smart."
The dwarf behind Tas blew his nose loudly, then
asked, "Did I hear you right? You're a friend of Flint Fire-
forge?"
"Certainly," Tas said. "I saw him just a few days ago
back in Solace. But it seems much longer ago than that.
Why, do you know him, too?"
"No, no," replied the dwarf
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