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Meals On Wheels
A solitary figure came into view, riding up the mountain path in a little cart pulled by a pony. The orc sentries watched curiously as it drew nearer. It was no hated bright elf, nor a man; but short, stout, and covered with bushy hair.
“ ’Ere,” Gorlung whispered. “What’s that, then? It ain’t no elf. What do you reckon, Captain? You ever seen one before?”
Magrat watched as the figure approached their post. “ ’Course I know what it is,” he growled.
Gorlung spared him a glance. “You do? What is it, then?”
Magrat grinned and licked his lips. “It’s lunch!”
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