"I.. I don't see any goats, we might be out of luck." George responded grateful for the full moon because he wasn't hardly winded. Once they were in the tree line, though, he began searching for a place to hide.
"What about sense of smell?" All he knew was that they enjoyed eating Dwarves, men and mutton. And they turned to stone when touched by sunlight. "I never thought I'd want to be furry."
Off the path George spotted an outcropping of rock, trees seemed like a bad idea, considering the lumbering lummoxes were snapping them like matchsticks. Snagging the arm of Cutler's coat he dragged him toward the pile of rock and ducked behind. Dropping his tone to a whisper he hissed, "Here's hoping they're bloody stupid."