far from our memories arc them damned drow coming up from their deep holes. I'm not knowing this Carradoon or them Snowflake Mountains ye're mentioning, but up here's a wild land."
"We just got done fighting a few orcs ourselfs," Ivan replied. He turned to the river and nodded his bearded chin to the east. "Out in the Moonwood. Me brother put us a bit outta the way."
"Oo," said Pikel, hardly taking the blame in stride.
"Yeah yeah, ye got us up here quick, even if ye did land us in a nest o' elves!" Ivan admitted, and turned back to the soldier. ''Ores crawling everywhere, are they? Well, then I guess we come to the right place!"
It was spoken like a true dwarf, and the soldier appreciated the sentiment enough to slap Ivan on the shoulder.
"Let me see what ye're buildin'," Ivan offered. "Might know a trick or two from the south that ye ain't neared of here."
"Ye heading out?" came a soft voice, one that Drizzt Do'Urden surely welcomed.
He looked up from the small pouch he was preparing for the road to see Catti-brie's approach. The two had said little over the past few days. Catti-brie had retreated within herself, for private contemplations that Drizzt wasn't sure he understood.
"Just ensuring that the orcs were indeed chased away," the drow answered.
"Withegroo's got patrols out."
Drizzt offered a doubting smirk.
"Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. They're knowing the ground, at least."
"As I soon will."
"Let me get me bow, and I'll take yer flank," the woman offered.
Drizzt looked up. "It is a dark night," he said.
Looking as if she had just been slapped, Catti-brie also let her gaze move about before settling it enough to stare back at Drizzt.
"I got me a little headpiece here for just such an occasion," she remarked.
From her belt pouch she brought forth the cat's-eye circlet that she often wore, one that magically conveyed heightened vision in very low light.
"Not as keen as a drow's eyes," Drizzt remarked. "The ground is rocky and likely treacherous."
Catti-brie started to argue, to remind him that the circlet had served her even in the Underdark, and that this had never been an issue between them before, but Drizzt interrupted her before she could even get started.
"Remember the rocky climb outside of Deudermont's house?" he asked. "You hardly managed it. After the rain, the rocks here arc no doubt equally slick."
Again, Catti-brie looked as if he had just slapped her. His words were true enough. She could not pace him in the daylight, let alone in the dark of night, but was he saying that she would slow him down? Was he, for the first time since his foolish decision to go to Menzoberranzan alone, forsaking the help of his friends?
He nodded, offered the thin veil of a smile, slung his pack over his shoulder, and rose, turning away.
Catti-brie caught him by the arm, forcing him to turn and face her.
"Ye know I can do this," she said.
Drizzt looked at her hard and long. His stern expression melted away into a nod.
"There is no better partner in all the world," he admitted. "But ye want to go out alone this night," Catti-brie stated more than asked.
Again the drow nodded.
Catti-brie pulled him close into a hug, and it was one of warmth and love, with just a bit of sadness.
Drizzt went out from Shallows soon after. Guenhwyvar was not with him, but he had the figurine close and knew that the cat would be available to his call should he need her. Barely fifty feet from the torchlit gate, the drow melted into the shadows, becoming one with the dark of night.
He saw the patrols from Shallows several times in the night and heard them long before they came into view. Drizzt avoided them easily every time. He did not want company, but his inner turmoil did little to dull his focus. Out there, in the dark, he was hunting as only a skilled drow might do, roaming the trails and the woods as silently as a shadow. He expected to find nothing, but he was seasoned enough to understand that those honest expectations would lean him toward the precipice of disaster if he embraced them too deeply.
Thus he was not surprised when he found orc-sign. Prints showed themselves to Drizzt's keen drow eyes amidst a circle of sitting stones. They were fresh, very recent, yet there was no sign of any campfire or of any residue from a torch. Night had been on