'Yesh.'
'Over there in all that thick, shadowy undergrowth?'
'Very good playshe, yesh.'
'Where all the deep gullies and things are, you mean?'
'Ideal shpot, I'd shay.'
'Yes, I thought so,' said Rincewind bitterly. He set off, wondering how you attracted onions. After all, he thought, although you see them hanging in ropes on market stalls they probably don't grow like that, perhaps peasants or whatever use onions hounds or something, or ing songs to attract onions.
There were a few early stars out as he started to poke aimlessly among the leaves and grass. Luminous fungi, unpleasantly organic and looking like marital aids for gnomes, squished under his feet. Small flying things bit him. Other things, fortunately invisible, hopped or slithered away under the bushes and croaked reproachfully at him.
'Onions?' whispered Rincewind. 'Any onions here?'
'There's a patch of them by that old yew tree,' said a voice beside him.
'Ah,' said Rincewind. 'Good.'
There was a long silence, except for the buzzing of the mosquitoes around Rincewind's ears.
He was standing perfectly still. He hadn't even moved his eyes.
Eventually he said, 'Excuse me.'
'Yes?'
'Which one's the yew?'
'Small gnarly one with the little dark green needles.'
'Oh, yes. I see it. Thanks again.'
He didn't move. Eventually the voice said conversationally, 'Anything more I can do for you?'
'You're not a tree, are you?' said Rincewind, still staring straight ahead.
'Don't be silly. Trees can't talk.'
'Sorry. It's just that I've been having a bit of difficulty with trees lately, you know how it is.'
'Not really. I'm a rock.'
Rincewind's voice hardly changed.
'Fine, fine,' he said slowly. 'Well, I'll just be getting those onions, then.'
'Enjoy them.'
He walked forward in a careful and dignified fashion, spotted a clump of stringy white things huddling in the undergrowth, uprooted them carefully, and turned around.
pells were alone inside their Octavo.
Alone, at any rate, apart from the Luggage.
They looked at it, not with eyes, but with consciousness as old as the Discworld itself.
'And you can bugger off too,' they said.