"And you don"t mind?"
"Me? Mind? Not me. You know me, Fred, always ready to do my bit."
"Nobby?"
"Yes, Fred?"
"The dress..."
"Yes, Fred?"
"I thought we weren"t doing the... traffic calming any more?"
"Yes, Fred. But I thought I"d keep it on ready to swing into action just in case you decided that we should."
A chilly wind blew across the cabbage fields.
To Gaspode it brought, besides the overpowering fumes of the cabbage and the dark red smell of the dung carts, hints of pine, mountains, snow, sweat and stale cigar smoke. The last came from the cart men"s habit of smoking large, cheap cigars. They kept the flies off.
It was better than vision. The world of smell stretched before Gaspode.
"My paws hurt," he said.
"There"s a good dog," said Carrot.
The road forked. Gaspode stopped and snuffled around. "Well, here"s an int"resting frog," he said. "Some of the dung"s jumped down off"f the cart and headed away across the fields here. You were right."
"Can you smell water anywhere around?" said Carrot, scanning the flat plain.
Gaspode"s mottled nose wrinkled up in effort. "Pond," he said. "Not very big. "bout a mile away."
"She"ll be heading towards it. Very meticulous about cleanliness, Angua. That"s not usual in werewolves."
"Never been one for water myself," said Gaspode.
"Is that a fact?"
"Here, no need for that! I had a B-A-T-H once, you know, it"s not as if I don"t know what it"s like."
The pond was in a clump of wind-blown trees. Dry grass rustled in the breeze. A single coot scuttled into the reeds as Carrot and Gaspode approached.
"Yeah, here we are," said Gaspode. "A lot of muck goes in, and - " he sniffed at the stirred-up mud - "er, yeah, she comes out. Um."
"Is there a problem?" said Carrot.
"What? Oh, no. Clear scent. Headin" for the mountains, just like you said. Um." Gaspode sat down and scratched himself with a hind leg.
"There"s a problem, isn"t there... ?" said Carrot.
"Well, supposin" there was something really bad that you wouldn"t really want to know, and I knew what it was... How"d you feel about me tellin" you? I mean, some peopled rather not know. It"s a pers"nal thing."
"Gaspode!"
"She"s not alone. There"s another wolf."
"Ah." Carrot"s mild, uninformative smile did not change.
"Er, of the male persuasion," said Gaspode. "A boy wolf. Er. Very much so."