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Falco led Garmund into the tangle of brush and trees. Vines crossed from tree to tree, making for a thick tangle that reached at least twice as high as Thornden's head. It was not easy going, even with the remains of a path. In point of fact, somewhat to Falco's mild suprise, the path seemed to be less overgrown than he expected.
"Ah! There. Have a look at that, Garmund!"
"It looks like a little bit like Náin," Garmund said.
It was true, after a fashion. It was a stump of grouted stone, or rather layer upon layer of old, old stone with the grouting slowly by slow age rotting and falling away.
"Or a little like an old giant's chipping molars and gums, only sideways," Falco said. "And there's more of it over that-a-way." Falco pointed.
Vine strewn and matted with moss, the dwarvish looking stone column before them grew into a wall of varying heights to their right. Garmund got his hands into the middle of it, touching the old stone, and looked back at Falco.
"How far in does it go?"
"Let's have a look. The path leads that way."
As they passed beyond the first wall, Garmund in the excited lead now, Falco thought that he caught something moving out of the corner of his eye, but a second look revealed nothing. Maybe Thornden's looking over that way and I caught but a glimpse of him. But that didn't seem right. Probably nothing. Falco shook off the jibblies and followed Garmund.
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