"Of course," I growled. "I am a ranger, you might recall."
We continued walking along the wide path through the thickening forest. Or rather, I walked, and the enchanter glided, his robe never dragging nor rising, but forming a kind of seal with the ground. "It's a harpy," I continued, finally. "Probably from that village we stopped at last night. Caught sight of him about two hours ago. I think he's trying to get up the courage to approach us."
"Not to attack us, I hope. He's not that large a bird. Would hardly make a good lunch between us," the enchanter observed. "And he isn't a harpy, Stanton, he is a Karura. Very different, although they may share a common ancestor."
"Whatever." I waved off his attempt at educating me. "Unless he wants to club us with a book, he's not equipped for it. I didn't see any weapons."
"A weapon of mass instruction," said Smiir. "It would certainly do some damage to you."