Snip grumbled to herself as she put one boot in front of another on the dew-moistened road. That stupid spell! It hadn't even let her think about setting out on her journey until she'd eaten enough to easily make five or six normal breakfasts. She was so stuffed, even a slow amble gave her a stitch in her side. This is going to slow me down, she realized. And she couldn't exactly afford to be slowed down. It would take her about a week to reach the tomb traveling at her normal speed ... more, the slower she got, and the slower she got, the fatter she'd be when she got there. And fat thieves soon found themselves in tight spots on the job. Hmm, figure seven days, plus at least three... maybe if I sleep less, and walk more--
"Well, well. I didn't know you'd gotten knocked up."
Snip looked up crossly into the smirking face of One-Eyed Rance, the handsome but annoying and suave but annoying human safecracker she'd paired up with on a couple of occasions -- in bed, of course, she'd never sully herself professionally with such a rank amateur.
"I'm not," she snapped.
His amethyst eyes twinkled with amusement. He had two eyes -- he only called himself 'One-Eyed' because it confused the people looking for him. "Oh, I know. The whole inn was buzzing about the way you demolished the menu last night -- and again this morning, if looks don't deceive. Isn't it hard to walk?"
"I'll make do," she said shortly.
They walked on in silence for a while as the sun rose higher in the sky and the dew burned off, the sound of distant birdsong all that met their ears.
"I'd rather handle this on my own, if you don't mind," Snip said when it became obvious he wasn't going to leave.
"Oh, the old orc's tomb, that thing? You can be my guest, when we come to that. I certainly don't care to muck around in some moldy old crypt when the rich keep such clean houses. Until then, it's everybody's road."
"Not the space around me. That's my road," Snip explained, pulling out a few knives, "and here and here are my bodyguards, so I suggest you -- ooh!" Her stomach gurgled loudly.
"Hungry already?" Rance raised one coal-black eyebrow.
"Hell. I thought I'd be at least to Stonewood by the time I needed to eat again. Now I'll have to look for an orchard or something."
She was about to turn off the road when she sensed something flying at her, and caught it on a dagger without looking. It turned out to be a sweet roll. She looked back at Rance.
"I suspected you might need a little something extra along the way," he shrugged. "Or a lot of something. Honestly, you don't think you're going to be able to carry enough supplies to get all that way on your own, do you? You'll be chewing your own arms off halfway across the Gray Plains."
Snip munched the sweet roll sullenly. The obnoxious thing was, he was right. "And I suppose you're coming just out of the kindness of your own heart?"
He laughed. "Of course not! You're my friend, Snip, I don't want to see you starve in the wilderness." He grinned cruelly. "But you're also one of the best thieves in Squallhirst, and that means you're one of my competitors. It can hardly hurt my own bottom line if I fatten up those quick little fingers of yours a bit, now can it?"
Snip gulped.
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