on the cheek - the kiss of a friend, and nothing more.
In its own way, that was a defining moment for her.
Wulfgar's reciprocating grin, though, seemed a bit less than certain.
"So we're thinking we should be getting scouts out through the chimneys," came a voice from behind Catti-brie, and she turned around to see her adoptive father Bruenor entering the room, Regis in tow. "We got to know what our enemies are thinking if we're to counter them properly."
"They're orcs," Wulfgar said. "Betting would say that they're not thinking much."
His attempt at humor would have been more successful if that last maneuver of the orc army had not been so fresh in all their minds, the deceptive swing behind the mountain spurs to the west that brought the bulk of their force in behind Banak's charges, nearly spelling disaster for the dwarves.
"We can't be knowing a thing about them orcs unless we're seeing it ourselfs," Bruenor remarked. "I'm not for underestimating this one again."
Regis shifted uncomfortably.
"I'm thinking that we scored a bigger victory than we realized," Catti-brie was quick to remark. "We won the day out there, though our losses surely hurt."
"Seems to me like we're the ones in our hole," Bruenor replied.
"But it's seeming to me that we could not've done better," reasoned the woman, and she looked directly at the halfling, her expression showing her approval. "If we'd've come right in, then we'd not now know what's come against us. What straights might we soon find ourselves in if you had acted otherwise, if we had run from the ridge straightaway? Would we truly understand the size and ferocity of the force that's arrayed against us? Would we have delivered so powerful a blow against our enemy? They've come to fight us, and so we'll be fighting, don't you doubt, and better that we understand what we're fighting, and better that we've laid so many low already. Thanks to Nanfoodle and the others, we've killed them as overwhelmingly as we could ever have hoped thus far, even if all the fighting had been in our own defended tunnels."
"Ye got the right way o' seeing things, girl," Bruenor agreed after a pause to digest the reasoning. "If they're thinking to come in against us, at least now we're knowing what they got to throw our way."
"So hold our heads high and hold our weapons all the tighter," Wulfgar chimed in.
"Oo oi!" said Regis, and everyone looked at him curiously.
"What's that meaning, anyway?" asked Catti-brie.
Regis shrugged. "Just sounded right," he explained, and no one disagreed.
5. TOO HIGH A CEILING
Galen Firth paced furiously, every stride showing his mounting impatience. He muttered under his breath, taking care to keep his curses quiet enough so that they wouldn't disturb the dwarves, who were huddled together in a great circle, each with his arms over the shoulders of those beside him. Heads down, the bearded folk offered prayers to Moradin for the souls of Fender and Bonnerbas. They had run a long way from the hole they had cut out of the tunnels to escape the troll ambush, but they were still outdoors, sheltered within a copse of fir trees from a heavy rain that had come up.
When the dwarves had finished - finally finished, to Galen's thinking - General Dagna wasted no time in marching over to the human.
"We'll be considering our course this night," the dwarf informed him. "More'n a few're thinking it's past time we got back into tunnels."
"We just got chased out of tunnels," Galen reminded him.
"Aye, but not them kind o' tunnels. We're looking for tunnels deep, tunnels o' worked stone - tunnels to give a dwarf something worth holding onto. No trolls're gonna push Battlehammer dwarves out of stone tunnels, don't ye doubt!"
"You're forgetting our course and our reason for being here."
"Them trolls're onto us," Dagna replied. "They'll catch up to us soon enough, and ye know it."
"Indeed, if we continue to stop and pray every .. ." Galen's voice trailed off as he considered Dagna's expression and realized that he was going over the line.
"I'll forgive ye that, but just this once," the dwarf warned. "I'm knowin' that ye're hurting for yer losses. We're all knowin' that. But we're running out o' time. If we're staying here much longer, then don't ye be thinking we'll find our way back to our home anytime soon."
"What do you mean to do?"
Dagna turned around slowly, surveying the landscape. "We'll head west, to that high ridge there," he said, pointing to