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datatime: 2022-09-29 19:03:02 Author:wIjdgAYn

Nora watched the cook slip gingerly into his tent and snug down the zipper. Then she turned back to Sloane. "So tell me about your recon. How is it upcanyon?"

How much water?

Sloane snapped off the light and refolded the map. "What makes you think our horses can make it?"

The horse tossed its head in a mighty nod, then nickered evilly.

Yes. But we're going to need brush hooks and axes. And there isn't much water. Sloane glanced down at the remnants of the group, lounging around the fire drinking coffee. "Some of them are going to be unpleasantly surprised."

She moved the penlight to a spot on the map where the elevation lines came together in an angry black mass: a ridge, high, difficult, and dangerous.

Can I have a different pack horse? Smithback asked, leaning against a rock.

Nora frowned, unaware that Sloane had brought along maps of her own. "That's about right."

She moved the penlight to a spot on the map where the elevation lines came together in an angry black mass: a ridge, high, difficult, and dangerous.

Nora watched the cook slip gingerly into his tent and snug down the zipper. Then she turned back to Sloane. "So tell me about your recon. How is it upcanyon?"

Sloane looked back at her in the starlight; a long, penetrating look, the amused expression never leaving her face. Then she simply nodded.

I know all about that ridge, Nora said, aware of how defensive she must sound. "My father called it the Devil's Backbone. But I don't see any reason to get everyone worried prematurely."

Yeah. A horse-sized problem. Beetlebum over there keeps trying to bite me.

Sloane looked back at her in the starlight; a long, penetrating look, the amused expression never leaving her face. Then she simply nodded.

Can the horses make it? Swire asked.

How much water?

I know all about that ridge, Nora said, aware of how defensive she must sound. "My father called it the Devil's Backbone. But I don't see any reason to get everyone worried prematurely."

Sloane snapped off the light and refolded the map. "What makes you think our horses can make it?"

Nora watched the cook slip gingerly into his tent and snug down the zipper. Then she turned back to Sloane. "So tell me about your recon. How is it upcanyon?"

She moved the penlight to a spot on the map where the elevation lines came together in an angry black mass: a ridge, high, difficult, and dangerous.

Nora watched the cook slip gingerly into his tent and snug down the zipper. Then she turned back to Sloane. "So tell me about your recon. How is it upcanyon?"

Yeah. A horse-sized problem. Beetlebum over there keeps trying to bite me.

Likes the taste of ham, I guess, said Swire.

How far did you go?

Odd son of a bitch, Swire repeated.

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