...someone ought to scout-"
"I will, Tanis," Tas volunteered, popping up out of the brush beneath Tanis's elbow. "No one would suspect a kender traveling alone."
Tanis frowned. Tas was right - no one would suspect him... "Very well," Tanis said finally. "But remeber, Tasselhoff Burrfoot, keep your eyes open and your wits about you. Bo roaming off the road and above all" - Tanis fixed the kender's eye with his own sternly - "keep your hands out of other people's belongings."
"Unless they're bakers," Caramon added.
Tas giggled, pushed his way through the final few feet of brush, and started off down the road, his hoopak digging holes in the mud, his pouches jouncing up and down as he walked. They heard his voice lift in a kender trailsong.
Your one true love's a sailing ship
That anchors at our pier.
We lift her sails, we man her decks,
We scrub the portholes clear;
And yes, our lighthouse shines for her,
And yes, our shores are warm;
We steer her into harbor,
Any port in a storm.
The sailors stand upon the docks,
The sailors stand in line,
As thristy as a dwarf for gold
Or centaurs for cheap wine.
For all sailors love her,
And flock to where she's moored,
Each man hoping that he might
Go down, all hands on board.
Tanis, grinning, allowed a few moments to pass after hearing the last verse of Tas's song before starting out. Finally they stepped out on the road with as much fear as a troupe of unskilled actors facing a hostile audience. It felt as if every eye on Kyrnn was on them.