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Mud!

Can't talk! Writing!!!

Enjoy a short extract in which Gwynnie and a grumpy old man are both caked in mud. Rigel... get your mind out of the gutter.

Rigel: I wasn't thinking anyt...

I know. That was just general advice for every day use.

:P

Then, quite suddenly, he disappeared. I stopped running to get my breath and wondered where he had gone. He had been several metres in front of me, running along the embankment. The guards caught me up as I stood there, but none of them stopped. They kept pounding after Siral, running at a slow, steady pace.

     I followed them at a walk, hoping my plan had not got Siral caught. I was making my way along the same embankment when a riverstone dropped at my feet. I jumped and gave a little gasp, trying to see where it came from.

     Siral was in the river, or more accurately, in the mud beside the river. He had obviously rolled in it to camouflage himself. He beckoned to me and with a cry of disgust, I rolled down the muddy bank.

     He caught me at the bottom and helped me douse myself in mud. We lay face down, mud below, beside and caked onto our skin and hair. It was cold and slimy. All I could think was that this damned plan had better have worked.

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