The mouse stirred uneasily as voices sounded in the dimness. Baran's rumbling snore had been a comfort, but these hushed whispers were puctuated by snorts and derisive comments. One voice sounded like Rog, the other like Rog's elderly companion. He wondered what had woken them so early, and if the hawkish bird had anything to do with it.
One thing was for certain. Something smelled absolutely delicious.
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...down to the water to see the elves dance and sing upon the midsummer's eve.
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