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No more branches fall.
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Narrhil carefully moves south, trying to follow any obvious structure, he might be in a barn or stable area or a picket fence around a house, he is unsure.
The faint light of his icicle is not as great as a torch, but he peers into the darkness, determined that if his enemy is near, he can see them first and strike quickly...
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The wooden slat continues south what must be another 60 feet, Narrhil is losing track of distance in this deep snow. The ground seems to begin a slope downhill.
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Narrhil holds, he wonders if he has entered an enclosed field. He decides to turn back; not wanting to wander to far away from the main structures.
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Caveman wrote:
Narrhil holds, he wonders if he has entered an enclosed field. He decides to turn back; not wanting to wander to far away from the main structures.
Narrhil hasn't left the wooden slat. He is south beyond the opened gate though.
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[Are you waiting for me Iron? cos I waiting for you! ]
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I'm coming back. With your drawing...