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Sicbur ran a hand over his beard, his pride and joy, as it would be any other dwarf's. He glanced over at his sleeping companions. Shadowfox, the half-elf, lay awkwardly, his troubled dreams making themselves known. In comparison, Elora, their immortal friend, looked as serene as her elven guise allowed.
Sicbur watched as the moon, a mere sliver of silver, rose above the trees. It would soon be time to wake Shadow for his watch, Sicbur thought, as Shadow began thrashing again, perhaps not a bad thing after all. He tapped the remnants of his pipe onto the boulder he had selected as his watch post, the old adage of a sharp rock in the posterior being the best way to keep alert, springing to mind.
Sicbur hated the middle watch, he always felt as if he hadn't had a decent sleep for one thing, but worse than that, nothing ever happened. Who in their right mind wandered the wilderness in the pitch dark? Even those not in their right mind tended to leave woods, especially those on the side of a mountain, alone.
A twig snapped nearby, the sound echoing like a hammer striking an anvil.
Sicbur swore into his beard, what could he have been thinking? Would it have killed him to wait until his watch was over before tempting fate so blatantly?
“You never learn, old friend.” Elora whispered, the dying fire dancing across her naked blade.
“It's probably nothing.” Sicbur said, his own drawn sword belying his hopeful words.
“Go wake Shadow, rather him grumpy and nagging us than dead.” Elora ordered, scanning the woods for whatever was foolish enough to irk her,scare Sicbur and disturb Shadow's sleep. The Gods pity them their foolishness, was all she thought.
(word count 292)
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