Khôrbar slowly began to wade across the rapids. He did not look back, for he would most likely lose his balance.
It took him a good ten minutes to cross, but he managed to do so. When he reached the other side, he checked his pack. He had lost no supplies, thank the Good Spirits. Khôrbar quickly drew his sword out of habit. It was wise to keep one's weapon out when traveling in this area.
Khôrbar moved along the shore. Suddenly, he saw most of the rest of the company was already ashore. He stood, puzzled, for he had been the first to cross, and he did not think any people were behind him.
He saw one woman giving him a distrustful look. What was this woman hiding? Or why did he make her so distrustful?
"Tôlo! Come! Nakha! Á tulë!" Khôrbar said in the four languages he was most learned in. He set off through the woods again, still wondering how the others crossed so soon...
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"I think we dream so we don't have to be apart so long. If we're in each others dreams, we can be together all the time." - Hobbes of Calvin and Hobbes
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